


The Winding Roads of Truth

by Catw00man, Zippit



Series: Fuhrer of the People [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Future, Another Road Traveled Universe, Community: fma_big_bang, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catw00man/pseuds/Catw00man, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an assassination attempt on Mustang hits close to home, it's decided they need to see the western battlefront for themselves. As they go their seperate ways, covertly and with pomp and circumstance, Ed and Roy struggle with the truths they discover along the way.</p><div class="center">
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  </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of our [Another Road Traveled](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Another_Road_Traveled) collection and is the second part of the series [Fuhrer of the People](http://archiveofourown.org/series/10235). It follows directly after [Political Alchemy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/240037/chapters/368947), but may be read on its own if you choose.
> 
> We were very honored to again work on this story with the very talented artist, [**Rabu**](http://raburabu-sama.livejournal.com/) who provided some beautiful artwork that can be found at the bottom of Chapter 1. We also had the good fortune this round to work with [**Bay**](http://bay115.livejournal.com/) who created a gorgeous header for the series as well as a banner seen at the end of Chapter 3. We'd like to thank both of them for working with us and adding such a beautiful contributions to this work.
> 
> Written for the 2012 round of [fmabigbang](http://fmabigbang.livejournal.com).  
> 

"Pass the eggs."

"Jean, don't you think you've had enough?"

"I'd have more bacon, but Armstrong ate it all."

"Sustenance is vital to maintain one's physique, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Ed, can you make more of that coffee?"

"Falman, that dyed hair is still creeping me out."

A smile curls over Roy's lips at the early morning banter and his eyes linger over each of them gathered around the kitchen table as if this were a common occurrence instead of the rarity it is. There's a playfulness in the air with the good natured bickering and it reminds Roy of a large family sitting down for breakfast before a long trip. He sips his coffee and smiles a bit more. It's a shame they can't have more moments like this.

Jean attempts to steal a piece of bacon from Riza's plate and she bats his hand before tearing the slice in two and sharing it with him. Kain continues to stare at Vato's hair, dyed jet black to match Roy's, and from his reaction Roy's fairly certain Kain ended up getting kicked under the table. Ed retrieves the freshly brewed pot of coffee and after an alchemic flash to add his special twist to it he tops off everyone's mugs including Alex's oversized one. Where he found a coffee mug that size Roy will never know. The only one missing is Heymans but they'll meet up with him soon enough in the West. Maybe they'll even be lucky enough to have another moment like this.

But Roy doubts it.

For as much as this is his family he knows he can't protect them all. There's a very real chance the next time they have a time like this one of them could be missing, and not because they’re stationed out of town. The target they've put on the convoy is a huge risk for all involved. If anyone wants to take another shot at assassinating him, it’ll be the perfect opportunity. Roy's eyes fall on Vato again and he silently hopes he sees the day his hair’s back to its old shade of grey. If he gets killed playing his decoy....

"Stop it."

Ed's hushed words pull him out of his thoughts and he watches as he slides into the chair next to him and pulls his mug from his fingers. He refills the cup with the last of the steaming brew then presses it back into Roy's hands. Ed rests his hands over Roy's and Roy gets lost in the golden gaze that can see right through him. Has it really only been two days since Ed returned to Central? It's not enough time. It's never enough time, but Ed's right. There's no point in ruining this time with worries about things they can't change.

"This is great, Chief. You really should do this more often."

Roy smirks at Jean's praise around a mouthful of food and that's when he realizes all eyes are on him. Apparently Ed wasn't the only one to pick up on his mood shift and he can see the same concern reflected in each of their eyes. They're taking their cue from him. He's seen it dozens of times and he knows if he wanted to get down to business every member of his most trusted circle would instantly be at the ready. But he doesn't want that, at least, not for a while longer.

"I appreciate the flattery, Jean, but this doesn’t mean I'll be cooking for you all the way to West City." The slight tension that was building immediately evaporates as laughter and the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain again fill the air. Riza elbows Jean and Roy hears him mutter something about needing to "take a shot" and it brings a smile to his lips. It's definitely going to be interesting being stuck in a car with him for over a week. 

"Havoc, you make sure to get both you and Roy safety to West City and I'll be more than happy to cook for you myself." There’s a teasing tone to Ed’s words but Roy doesn’t miss the seriousness in his eyes. It’s mirrored in each of them despite the seemingly casual air of the breakfast table. There’s a reason they’re all here and it’s not to socialize.

“I’ll take you up on that, Boss, as long as you make sure the convoy arrives in one piece.” Jean looks to Riza who gives him a single nod and Roy knows they can’t put this off much longer. Vato’s already standing to clear the breakfast dishes and Kain’s shuffling through some updated intelligence he received this morning. If they want to get out of Central during the morning rush hour then they need to leave soon.

Roy pushes to his feet and looks over his most trusted subordinates one by one. They have become his family, there’s no question about it. That’s why he needs to make one final order before they all go their separate ways. He feels their eyes on him as everyone stops what they’re doing and Roy drops all his informality. “We all know the roles we have to play in the upcoming weeks and I have the utmost faith in each one of you. Traveling to the West will be dangerous, as will maintaining the ruse I’m with the convoy, but I’ve no doubt we’ll succeed. To that end, I have one more order for each of you that is to be followed above all others.”

Roy feels the weight of their eyes on him and he knows without a doubt each one of them would give their lives for him. He carries that fact on his shoulders every day. He wouldn’t be where he is without these soldiers and he won’t lose them now, not over something as trivial as a trip out west. “No matter what else happens, don’t die. I plan on having another meal like this and there better not be any empty seats.”

Silence stretches out over the kitchen and Roy isn’t surprised. Commanders don't usually make orders like this and there are very good reasons for it. There are times the fight is worth dying for, but this isn't one of them. He doesn't care what the cost is as long as they remember this one thing.

"That's great and all, Mustang, but I for one am only following your order under one condition."

Roy's turns his head sharply to look at Ed still sitting at the table by his side. There's a smirk on his lips and a stubborn look he knows all too well. Ed wants something and he's not going to go along until he gets it. Roy shakes his head and lets out a deliberate sigh. "Isn't it a bit early in the day to be arguing with my orders, Fullmetal?" Ed crosses his arms and continues to smile at him. Roy's glad it's only those he trusts most who see him cave so pathetically. "Alright, what's your condition?"

"The order stands for you too." Ed's eyes lose their mirthful glint the instant the words are out of his mouth and his tone turns hard and serious. He knows exactly what he's asking because Ed knows him better than anyone. He would die to protect them. He'd die for the country if it was for the greater good and Ed knows it. He should’ve known he might try something like this.

"Edward...."

"That sounds like a fair enough request, sir." Roy blinks in surprise at the sound of Hawkeye's voice. Is she really siding with Ed on this? She knows better than anyone what sacrifice means in the military. She can't possibly--

"I agree, Chief." Havoc nods and leans his chair back, crossing his arms much the same way Ed is. "Besides, I don't want to be known as the one who let the Fuhrer make some grand sacrifice on his watch."

"The Lieutenant Colonels are correct, sir. Not to mention, as I'm sure Colonel Elric would remind you, it is equivalent exchange after all." Roy blinks as even Armstrong joins in the mini mutiny. Roy shoots a look over to see Ed still smirking at him and he wouldn't be surprised if he somehow planned this.

"As you can see, sir, the wisest course of action would be to agree." Roy arches an eyebrow as Falman turns from putting dishes in the sink and clasps his hands behind his back. It seems Ed's tutorial on acting more confident has paid off because Falman more than holds his ground under Roy's firm stare. He shakes his head again then turns to Fuery who's stacked his reports neatly on the table.

"Do you have anything to add, Captain?"

Fuery pushes up his glasses with one finger then shakes his head. "No, I believe everyone else covered it. Sir." Roy snorts softly under his breath. He wasn't wrong when he thought of them all as family. Though he knows they would each follow any order he'd make without hesitation, he also knows he won't be getting out of this kitchen, much less the city, without relenting.

"Fair enough." He does his best to suppress a smile as his gaze sweeps over them then lands on the ringleader beside him. "I accept your condition, Fullmetal. The order stands for us all."

"Good." Ed places his hands on the table then pushes himself to his feet. "Then we can focus on getting you two out of here." He nods to those still gathered around the table and they immediately disperse at his silent order. Roy doesn't even try to suppress the smile on his face because there's no point. Even though it still amuses him at how things have changed he knows without a doubt Ed's as respected as he his and his men would follow his command without question. Considering the journey they have ahead of them that's going to be invaluable.

"Enjoying yourself?" Roy arches an eyebrow and a full on grin spreads across Ed's face.

"A little bit." Ed gathers up the remaining dishes from the table and carries them over to where Falman is still washing the other ones. The scene’s so domestic it leaves Roy shaking his head. This really could be a glimpse of the future and he wants to make it happen. He wants more times like these where they aren't concerned with war and political treachery. It's going to take time, but they will make it happen.

Havoc turns toward the guest room most likely to finish packing up his belongings for the trip. He brought everything he'd need the night before so they wouldn't need to make any extra trips this morning to gather things up. Kain and Hawkeye gather up his intelligence reports and follow after him, probably to go over their initial route once more. Armstrong exits to the front rooms of the suites to secure the premises which leaves Roy to finish his own packing.

Roy casts his glance over to Ed and Falman talking softly over the dishes and he forces himself to turn away. Those two will need to spend a lot of time together in the next few weeks to make this work, it's good they're starting now. Hawkeye will pay a pivotal role in making people believe that Falman is him, but they all know Ed's the key. Even though they've done a fair job of keeping their relationship quiet, everyone knows the Fullmetal Alchemist is his right hand man. No one would be expecting him to make a move like this without him. Considering Ed's overprotective nature, they couldn't ask for a better cover. However, it still doesn't make him feel any better sneaking out of here without them.

Roy walks back to his bedroom and stops in the doorway to look over the disarray of the room. It's always messier when Ed's home, not that he'd ever complain. He loves the constant reminders he's here even if it might be dirty socks in the middle of the floor, open books scattered all around or empty coffee cups in the oddest of places. He'll admit he's a neat freak when left alone, but with Ed he's never minded the mess. It's probably because they've hardly ever been in the same place long enough for him to get irritated, but it might be nice one day to find out. He leans down to scoop up a pair of renegade socks from the side of the bed and carries them over to the hamper when he hears movement behind him.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Roy looks over his shoulder and smiles at Ed leaning his shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and a lazy smile on his lips. He scans his eyes over him and wonders if the automail's bothering him. Is his right shoulder a little hunched up? Who knows when the next chance will be for him to use his alkahestry to ease the toll it takes on him. Roy turns for the nightstand and the gloves he keeps for just such an occasion.

"Someone has to do it." He opens the drawer and rummages around inside for the gloves. "Now come here and let me see how that shoulder's doing. You know it always gives you trouble when you travel long distances."

The hand on his shoulder stops him and for a moment he hangs his head. He's stalling and they both know it, but he can't help it. They only had two days this time and with the assassination attempt and all the planning for his departure it feels like there hasn't been any time at all. It's the way of things now, the sacrifice they both make, and he knows he shouldn't push this. But sometimes even though he knows his personal life needs to take the backseat to more important things...it's still hard.

"I'm ok, Roy." 

His voice is soft and firm, filled with strength and laced with everything he should be right now. Roy closes his eyes and attempts to push back the nagging feeling deep inside that they should’ve taken more time for themselves. But they couldn't, and he knows it. One day they'll build the future they've all been dreaming of and when they do he'll make sure there are no more moments like this, at least, not for a very long while. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Roy turns when Ed tugs at his shoulder and he opens his eyes to find golden ones filled with deep understanding and shared burdens. Ed squeezes his shoulder lightly. "Just make good on your promise to me. Don't you die on me, bastard."

It’s an irrational promise to make but he does it anyway without any hesitation. “I promise, Edward. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure I see you again.” He locks his eyes with Ed’s and sees the stormy emotions right under the surface. He’s about to tell him again that everything’s going to be alright but before he can manage a word he’s hauled forward and pulled into a hard, deep kiss.

Roy parts his lips the instant Ed’s meet his and he’s overwhelmed by the sweet taste of him. He wraps his arms around Ed and slides his hand up to cup the back of his neck. He holds him close and tries to deepen the kiss even more. They don’t have time for this but the only thought running through his head is they didn’t have enough time. He has no idea when they’ll have another private moment to themselves. Heading to the West is only taking them to the front lines of a battlefront. There’ll be more important matters than their relationship out there.

His fingers curl into the loose strands of Ed’s hair and he breaks the kiss only to press his forehead against Ed’s and murmurs softly. “I’ll be fine, Edward. We’ll be fine.”

“You damn well better be.” Ed’s words are a growl laced with concern and he can’t imagine disappointing him. He also can’t imagine the lengths Ed would go to avenge him if something were to happen. Roy pulls back to look at him and cups his face with both his hands. He can still see the worry and concern in his eyes. Two days wasn’t enough time. It’ll never be enough.

“I’ll see you in the West. You won’t have anything to worry about.” If anything, Ed’s the one with the more dangerous mission. He has to fool everyone until they get to West City and are safe behind the walls of Western Command. Between here and there many things could go wrong. He smiles slightly and traces his thumb down the side of Ed’s face. “I’ll be there waiting with a smirk telling you how you had nothing to worry about.”

That manages to draw out a smile from Ed and he presses closer to wrap his arms tighter around him. “I still wish I could go with you.” Roy squeezes Ed tight and brushes a kiss against his hair.

“I do too but we both know this is the best option.” He pulls back slightly and slides his hand down Ed’s arm to lace his hand with his and guides them both over to the bed. He sits down and tugs Ed between his legs. It still amuses him that he has to crane his neck upwards to look at him despite the height of the large bed. He wraps his arms around Ed’s waist and pulls him close to kiss along his jaw.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Ed grouses and Roy can feel him relaxing against him. That’s what he was looking for. They can only spare a few minutes, but he wanted to leave Ed with a moment of peace before this all starts and they have to play their parts. It’s not much but it’s more than they’ve had the luxury for on other occasions.

“Of course not. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t complain about something.” Roy smiles at the brief irritated look that crosses Ed’s face. He enjoys it the most for the simple fact it slides into a fond exasperation.

“Bastard.” Roy grins and leans up to kiss Ed, brushing his thumb along his jaw. Ed’s never grown out of calling him that and Roy doesn’t think he’d feel right if he ever did. Ed’s quiet for a few moments before he asks softly, “Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

“What I want to be doing takes too much time and I’d prefer not to have an audience.” Roy smirks at the flush that develops across Ed’s cheeks. He can’t help himself. It’s not like Ed hasn’t embarrassed him the same way countless times over the years.

“We’ve done it before.” Ed grins back unrepentant as Roy stares. Roy shakes his head and laughs.

“Yes, we have but that would leave us both wholly unsatisfied right now.” It’d also be a torture the whole trip out West. Then there would be the waiting for Ed to arrive and everything else they’ll have pressing down on them. He’d be craving more time with Ed to do things properly, to savor things, and they can ill afford that out on the battlefront, though he can’t say the idea isn’t tempting.

He knows Ed won’t push it much more. They both have a lot of things they should be doing right now instead of taking respite with each other but it’s a moment Roy doesn’t want to let end either. Ed’s hands slide over his back then wraps tightly around him. “You take care of yourself, Mustang. I’m expecting that smug ass grin of yours to greet me when I get to West City.”

He slides a hand up to rest on the back of Ed’s neck and squeezes. “It will especially since I’ll be right and you’ll see you had nothing to worry about.” Ed snorts but doesn’t say anything else. He pulls back to look him in the eyes then kisses him hard and deep. This isn’t about need or want. It goes beyond that. They’ve always lived dangerous lives but it’s never been easy to be apart when so much is on the line. Ed leans against him when the kiss ends and Roy tells him quietly, “I should probably finish packing.”

Ed nods and slowly pulls back. “And I should probably go check on Falman and finalize the plans for this afternoon with Hawkeye.” He looks at Roy then turns to head back into the rest of the suite.

“I’ll see you in a few days, Edward.” Ed pauses at the doorway, his hand on the polished wood of the door jam and Roy can see the tension coiling in him already. He didn’t mean to make things worse with his comment but then Ed looks over his shoulder and smiles that brash grin he’s always admired.

“You can bet on it.” Ed holds his gaze for just a moment longer then turns and leaves the room without another word. He doubts they’ll get another moment like this before he and Havoc have to depart and it’s probably best to leave it like this with no finality and no heavy words. They both know how the other feels and it’s easier this way. 

Roy sighs and pushes off the side of the bed. Time to get packing. He heads over to the closet and pulls out a large duffel bag that he sets out on the bed. He should only need a week’s worth of travel clothes. They should be well able to reach West City in that amount of time despite their route. He and Havoc will trade shifts behind the wheel to make better progress and if all goes to plan should be able to set about evaluating the situation long before Ed and the convoy reach them. Roy smiles slightly as he imagines the look on General Hagan’s face when he appears unescorted except for one man. He won’t be pleased, but the fewer that know about this ruse the better especially if they plan on using it again in the future. 

He walks back to closet and pulls out two sets of complete uniforms. He has to appear presentable when he arrives. He folds them neatly and places them at the bottom of the bag. Next to go in are several pairs of his gloves with his array stitched in though he no longer needs them with the scarring on his hands. He reaches for his alkahestry gloves and hesitates. For various reasons he only has a select number of these, at the most maybe five sets. They’re infinitely more dangerous than the flame arrays but also much harder to decipher. He adds two of them to the pile then returns to his closet to gather enough civilian clothes for the rest of the journey.

The clothes and his toiletries all fit neatly into the duffel with plenty of space to spare. Roy considers bringing something a bit more personal but he doesn’t know what that would be. As long as he and Ed have been in the Fuhrer’s suites, they haven’t accumulated much aside from what they originally brought with them. Years in the military and the years growing up with Madame Christmas ensured he only kept what he could carry with him at a moment’s notice. Now those items would be his pocket watch, a pair of ignition gloves, and the knife he wears at his back. What he carries of Ed is completely intangible and no justice would ever be done by simplifying it down to a single item. Their entwined alchemies are proof enough of that.

He closes up the bag then turns back to the closet once more to get changed for the day. They debated for a while on what would be the best disguise for him upon leaving and the decision wasn’t unanimous. Ideally he and Havoc will get out of the Central compound and Fuhrer suites unnoticed, but if they aren’t he’s convinced he’d be more conspicuous in civilian clothes. This deep in Central Command most everyone is in some type of uniform so they decided to alter one of his own to the rank of First Lieutenant. It’s an appropriate rank to be seen with Havoc, who’s a Lieutenant Colonel, and hopefully it will help them get out of here without a hitch.

He finishes changing then carries his duffel out and sets it on the chair nearest the door so it won’t be forgotten. He can hear Armstrong humming softly to himself in another part of the suite but as for the rest of his unit they’re unseen for the moment. He walks to the living room table where the maps of their various routes have appeared again. He traces his finger along the convoy route, the most direct to West City. 

If he were planning an attack, it’d be a good distance away from West City and isolated from the surrounding population. The Snowden Valley about 60 miles from West City and 20 miles from the rough terrain of the Marchetti Mountains would be the ideal location. He knows Ed and the others can take care of themselves, but it still makes him uneasy. It’s a calculated risk they all agreed to but Roy wishes it wasn’t necessary.

He lifts his head from the maps and walks over to the curtained windows. The glass has been reinforced alchemically against sniper fire, but with the sensitivity of their current plans he doesn’t draw the curtains aside. It’s early in the day but there’s little doubt if the ruse was given away now all their careful planning would be for naught. He slides his fingers along the rich, heavy blue curtains that make the room feel more like a prison than a home. He’s never liked shutting out the sunlight. But his safety’s been tantamount with all the assassination attempts lately, and all the extra security has added to the prison-like feeling. With little to distract him other than politics and no escape through sparing with Ed or other activities it’s felt like a war of boredom

But that’s all about to change.

He still can hardly believe in only an hour or so he’ll be leaving the city and the round the clock protective details. The very thought is intoxicating, but he can’t let himself get too excited about it, especially with the potential cost to the rest of them. They’ve all sacrificed so much to get this far, but sometimes he wonders if he and Ed haven’t sacrificed the most. It’s a selfish thought, and one he rarely gives attention to with as much as they’ve all given up. He and Ed have always known their personal lives would have to be second place. If only Ed weren’t so damn valuable in the field.

Roy sighs softly to himself because he shouldn’t be thinking about this now. He’s never been against the use of his subordinates to the best of their abilities and unfortunately that has meant sending them far and wide to gather information or carry out tasks he can entrust to no one else. Hawkeye has been his one constant companion over the years, always looking out for him and protecting his back, and sometimes he wonders if a part of her resents him for that. She’s never mentioned it if she does. He’s entertained the thought of having Ed one day replace her, but they all know that wouldn’t turn out well, thought the idea does amuse him.

He shakes his head and pulls his hand away from the gold trim he was tracing with his fingers. No, Ed’s better served out in the field like Fuery is in charge of collating information, Breda for gathering it, Falman for piecing it all together, and Havoc for carrying out missions no one else can. He chose his unit well even if they’re scattered to the corners of the country far more often than he enjoys. Now they all need to do their jobs and he needs to make himself more useful. Brooding over things he can’t change is a waste of energy and he’s done with it.

Roy turns away from the curtains and strides across the room with a purpose to his step. The sooner they accomplish their tasks the closer they’ll be to their ultimate goals. He makes his way through the large suites to the guest room Havoc stayed in last night. He hasn’t seen him since breakfast and he wonders if maybe he needs a little assistance getting things packed up for the trip, but as he’s about to knock on the door Havoc opens it and gives him a surprised look when he spots him. “Hey, Chief. Did you need me for something?”

“No, no, I was just coming to see what else needed to be done.” Havoc slips out of the room by barely opening the door then closes it behind him. The move seems a bit secretive and he considers asking him about it, but Havoc’s already answering him as they walk back to the main living room and the map strewn table.

“Well, Ed took care of reinforcing the car last night and I’ve already laid in most of the supplies we need.” He shrugs and looks at Roy, his hand resting on the table. “The only thing we have left is loading our personal bags which we can take down with us” 

Roy nods. He should’ve known everything would already be taken care of. His unit has always been more than efficient when it comes to preparations like this. “That’s good to hear. Then I guess once everyone’s returned we’ll say our goodbyes.” Roy glances toward the clock. They’re still right on schedule to slip out during the morning rush hour.

“You know it’s a damn good thing you have several of these. You and your damn capes.” Roy and Havoc both look towards the grumbling Ed who enters the room carrying one of Roy’s usual black coats in his arms. Falman follows after him wearing one that’s obviously been altered for his height. Ed makes his way to Roy and shoves the coat at him. “Here. Put this on.”

Roy smirks, amused at Ed’s forcefulness, and slides into the coat. Ed scowls and walks around him, obviously examining the garment as he pokes at it here and there. It amuses Roy even more because he can’t count the number of times he’s come home to find Ed curled up under one of his coats fast asleep. Now he acts as if the entire thing is an albatross to be dealt with.

“You’re too damn distinguishable in these.” And that’s all the warning he gets before Ed claps his hands together then reaches out and presses them to the fabric of the coat. The tingle of his alchemy sliding over his skin is almost as familiar as his own and he sighs into the feel of it. He looks down and watches as the coat turns from his usual black to a lighter shade of brown and some of the distinctive features he’s always enjoyed are altered slightly. He holds out his arms and looks behind to try and get a better view of the remodeled garment. It’s not something he would usually wear, but it’s not bad.

He slides his hands over the front of the coat and adjusts the lay of the collar. It’s more of a modern look than the classic one he normally likes to wear and that’s probably a good thing. The less he resembles his usual self the better. “Thank you, Edward. This will certainly help once we’re outside the city.” He looks back to Ed and catches him with his arms folded across his chest still eying him with a serious look. He arches an eyebrow. “Something else on your mind?”

“Yes. You’re sneaking out in the back of the car. How are you disguising yourself?” Roy nods because Ed has a point. Havoc’s supposed to be leaving the city on an advance mission without anyone with him. It’d look rather suspicious if it looked like he was traveling with someone, especially someone who resembles his superior officer.

“We were going to toss supply blankets and tarps over me.” He glances toward Havoc and receives a nod in return. That was the tentative plan and unless Ed has a feasible alternative there’s not much they can do about that now. They’ve had so little time to plan. He needs to get to the West before the death toll gets any worse. There’s only so much Breda’s reports can tell him about the situation and he’s sat here on his ass for too long as it is. He made the mistake of letting the political environment sink its claws into him and distract him from what he’d originally set out to do. It’s time he started making all his promises a reality on the level of the people and not in the distant seat of the protected Central City. It’s time to take action.

Ed comes closer again and before he knows it the tingle of alchemy spreads over his body and he looks down at Ed’s hands to see an array etching itself into the sleeve of his coat. He doesn’t know where Ed pulled the thread from and he hopes it’s not from a vital area of the jacket. He would like to be able to see the other side of this trip with the coat intact. Ed touches his fingers to the newly made array on his sleeve and Roy blinks in surprise then the coat changes to a deep dark blue, almost edging into black. It’s the same color as the military tarps and the texture of the fabric even seems a little different. He arches an eyebrow in question and Ed only smiles.

“Figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to be able to blend in a little more. Just use the array on the sleeve to turn it back.” Ed looks decidedly smug when Roy does just that and the coat changes back into the lighter brown shade with the modern style. Ed reaches up then and grabs the lapels of the coat, but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I just wish there was more we could….”

Roy reaches up and covers his hands with his own, squeezing them lightly for a moment. “You’ve already done it.” Ed slowly looks up to meet his eyes and Roy tells him softly, “You just need to help Hawkeye make sure the convoy is as convincing as possible.” Ed nods and Roy squeezes his hands once more before pulling away. The others have shown up while Ed was making adjustments to the coat and Roy glances around to see them all waiting patiently. “Is everything ready?”

Fuery clears his throat as he looks down at a sheaf of papers in his hands. “The orders for Havoc are drafted and have been stamped with the appropriate seals.”

Ed steps back and turns to grab a cup of coffee from a side table. He’s obviously using it to give himself a distraction as his eyes remain fixed on the cup. He takes a sip, with the mug between his hands, before he says, “The car’s been alchemically enhanced as best I can.”

Roy smiles slightly as he shrugs out of his coat and drapes it over his arm then walks closer to the table strewn with maps. They’re as prepared as they can be. Havoc’s spent most of the night memorizing them despite the fact they’ll more than likely be out of date by the time they reach the roads. Ed’s attention to detail has always been high and Roy has no doubt the car is as unbreakable as Ed can manage in this short amount of time. “Good, good. Enough about my preparations to leave. What about the convoy?” 

“When are you planning to leave?” He looks back toward Ed who’s looking at him with intense focus, hand still tightly around the mug.

“Out with the morning traffic, Boss,” Havoc chimes in. “So we’ll blend in. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.” That draws a slight smile out of Ed and he relaxes a bit more, but the grip on the coffee mug doesn’t lighten by much.

“The convoy?” Roy leans a hip against the edge of the table. He knows it already but he wants to hear it one last time to know what new precautions his team has put in place. He trusts them implicitly. But he wants to be informed of all the new developments before he leaves.

“Joga and Cintai will be guarding the Fuhrer’s vehicle and will also serve as personal guards in the hotels,” Hawkeye’s crisp voice details. “They’re the only ones outside of this room that have been apprised of the situation.” 

Roy nods his approval about the small amount of people in the know, but he has no doubt that’s weighed heavily on several of them. Ed, Hawkeye and Armstrong each have trusted subordinates they no doubt would’ve liked to inform, but the fewer that know the truth the better. He traces his finger over the route the convoy will be taking. It nearly parallels the train track heading west. It’s predictable and that’s why they chose it.

“Any dissent in the ranks?” His question’s aimed at Fuery, not that he expects any reports to have reached his ears so soon after the announcement.

“No, sir. No reports have reached my desk yet.” 

He hopes it stays that way, but with the way they’re closing ranks, it’s likely that someone will feel slighted. Up until now they’ve always attempted to keep from showing favoritism. Hawkeye’s worked tirelessly with him to try and spread assignments around so it didn’t seem one unit was favored over another, but there were always the concerns of who you could and couldn’t trust. Politics is a tricky business and it’s always hard to balance building allies with making sure you aren’t betrayed. Sergeant Hansel’s ability to infiltrate his own personal guard is a perfect example of why they need to be wary. 

He turns his attention to Hawkeye when she’s the next to report. “For the most part, Parliament members have been too busy with their own preparations in response to your coming absence.” Roy nods because he hadn’t expected anything else from the scheming Parliament. “However, Brentwood submitted a request late last night for a meeting with you this morning. It was only brought to my attention a little while ago.” Hawkeye frowns slightly and glances at the clock. 

They don’t have time for this. Brentwood’s a notoriously late riser and won’t be ready for an audience until close to noon. Roy scowls and glares at the maps strewn all over the table. What could Brentwood need this close to the convoy’s departure? Shouldn’t Falman’s investigation into his improprieties have stalled the insufferable bastard? Damn the man and his stupid political grandstanding. Every other sane member of Parliament is worried about their own hides instead of interfering with his preparations. Why can’t Brentwood be like them?

“Can we summon him now?” And there’s Ed’s practical voice of reason. Roy’s avoided summoning Brentwood to anything if he didn’t have to. It would only make the man’s head swell more. The fool doesn’t need any more opportunity to puff himself up beyond his already delusional ideas of grandeur.

Roy sighs and leans more heavily against the table. “Unfortunately no, Edward. He’s probably still fast asleep and I’d prefer not to make it seem like I’m consulting him on an important matter by rousing him out of bed.” It’s not an ideal situation. If their ruse is going to work, he and Havoc need to leave shortly. He glances at the clock and the time they have left is dwindling fast. They need to come to a resolution.

“We could leave tomorrow, Chief?” He looks toward Havoc and yes that’s an option but that would put them a day behind. He frowns and shakes his head.

“It’s not an option. It’d expose us to too much risk. Your mission should have you leaving as soon as possible and that would be today.” Roy doesn’t even know the details Fuery crafted for Havoc’s mission orders but whatever they are they’re probably reconnaissance related and that means Havoc needs to be leaving quickly.

“We could delay the convoy?” Armstrong’s booming voice sounds anything but satisfied with the suggestion and he’s not the only one. 

“No.” Roy immediately rejects the idea because if Parliament sees he can be delayed despite his declaration of travel then they’ll do their best to ensure he never makes it out of Central. He can’t have that. He needs to see the battlefront for himself so that stories like Eli Hansel’s don’t happen anymore. He still can hardly believe he let himself become so desensitized. It’s been a constant flow of numbers and names of towns he didn’t even know and on a level none of it felt as real as it should have. Not until the moment a young boy fighting for the family he never should’ve lost placed a gun against his neck.

It never should’ve come to that. He became Fuhrer for one reason: to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. He hasn’t been doing a good enough job of that. He’s been dealing with the politics and as much as Ed claims that’s what smug bastards excel at, he’s always been better on the battlefield where the threats are immediate and there’s no time for distractions. It’s time to deal with this in whatever way is necessary, even if it’s a little underhanded.

“Falman, wasn’t this supposed to be taken care of last night?” Falman stands up straighter at his words and Roy face grows more serious. He doesn’t usually resort to blackmail, but it’s not every day you discover your enemy has misappropriated funds and properties. It’s only due to Falman’s dogged pursuit of perfection and detail that they even discovered the deceit. “Shouldn’t he be aware of your research by now?”

“Yes, sir. It should have reached Brentwood’s attention by now. I’m uncertain if this request was put in before that had occurred.”Falman’s frown says it all. He delivered the veiled threat and that should’ve been enough, but apparently not when you’re dealing with a dog.

Roy waves Falman’s forthcoming apology away. This must be why Brentwood wants the audience. He probably wants an attempt to bribe Roy into making it go away and as much as he’d like to shoot him down in person they don’t have the time. “It’s not your fault, Major. It seems we were too discreet in applying our pressure. Send a reply back saying the ongoing preparations for travel leave no time for other matters.”

“Sir, are you sure that’s a wise course of action?” He looks at Hawkeye there’s no question she looks tired. The past several nights have left their mark on her features in dark smudges under her eyes and a few wrinkles in her uniform. Hopefully she and the others will be able to get a good night’s rest before leaving tomorrow. If he and Havoc can get out of town unobstructed, they should get that chance.

He glances at each of them, showing exhaustion in their own ways, and runs his hand over his face. “I don’t see any other way. I don’t want to be seen having any preferences and if any of the other council members see I can be forced into a last minute meeting then they very well may attempt it themselves.” They can’t have any delays. “Hawkeye, send the missive. Fuery….”

“Yes, sir. I’ll keep a close eye on him while you’re gone.” Fuery scribbles on his notepad then moves over to a stack of papers at the corner of the table to make some further notations. Roy smiles. This is why he’s kept the same people around him. They’ve worked together long enough that they’ve come to expect each other’s responses. He couldn’t ask for more.

“If there’s nothing else?” No one puts forth anything and Roy nods. “It seems we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.” He looks around at all of them once more. “Remember, I expect to see all of you at Western Command in a few weeks’ time.”

He feels Ed’s eyes on him like a like a heavy weight and he’d like to take more time to say a proper goodbye, but he won’t. Neither of them can stand those types of moments when emotion renders them helpless and unable to express what they really want to say. They’ve said it before. They don’t need to say it again.

“We’ll be there.” Ed calls out and Roy finally locks his eyes with Ed’s. They’re intense, but not overly emotional. He holds his gaze for a moment until Ed breaks it and turns away. “Now, get before I decide I’m coming with you.”

Roy smiles at the fact Ed’s even worse at this than he is. He nods to the rest of his subordinates that won’t be joining him then reaches for his duffel bag he put near the door earlier. He slings it over his shoulder, situates his newly modified coat over his arm then turns to Havoc. “Are you ready?”

Havoc adjusts his own travel bag on his shoulder and nods. “Yeah, let’s get out of here before Ed decides he needs to show me another alternative route or grill me on evasive tactics.” 

Roy chuckles and follows Havoc to the door. He thinks he hears Ed make a “harumph” sound, but he lets it go along with the other soft wishes for safe travels. It’s time to go and he’s long found not looking back makes things easier. Havoc eases the door open and Roy arches an eyebrow when he doesn’t hear the customary greeting he normally would. Havoc motions for him to follow and they make their way down the hallways with no guards in sight. Evidently this was a part of the planning he missed somewhere along the line. Hawkeye must’ve had a lapse in the shift change or done something else to give them this window. 

He and Havoc quickly make their way through the back hallways and stairs Ed and the others won’t be able to use tomorrow. It wouldn’t make sense for the Fuhrer to be seen sneaking out of the compound, but it’s not unusual for two soldiers to take the shorter and less obstructed path. They make it down to the garage only having to duck into an alcove once when a pair of guards nearly spotted them. It’s very possible they might not have recognized them, but it’s easier not to take the chance.

Once they reach the car he’s relieved to see it’s parked in an area of less traffic, especially this early in the morning. Havoc will have to do a little more driving to get them out onto the streets, but at least they seem to be relatively unobserved. Roy quickly glances over the car as he slips into the back seat and sees that Ed’s modifications are barely detectable with a casual glance. Someone would have to be on top of the car to notice much of the reinforcements. He makes a soft sound when he tries to sit down because there are items littering the whole of the backseat. “Did you pack the whole of the supply surplus in here, Havoc?”

“Hey, I needed to make sure we have decent food to eat,” comes Havoc’s affronted voice from outside the car. Roy shakes his head and gingerly moves the items around so he can stretch out on the backseat. It’s easy enough to do. He slides boxes to the floor and arranges other items to the sides. It’s a bit of a tight fit and he can’t stretch out completely. His legs will have to be bent. Once he’s made enough room for himself he presses his fingers to the array on his coat and shivers as the tingle of alchemy slides over his skin. He drapes the jacket over himself and calls out for Havoc to look him over.

“You know, Chief, it’s pretty damn creepy what you guys can do with alchemy.” He feels the last few wisps of cool air disappear from his body as Havoc adjusts the coat and adds another supply blanket on top of him. “You’re gonna need a few boxes to slide under with you. It’ll look more natural that way.” He feels small boxes nudged under the blanket’s edge and he wishes he could see to do this himself. He arranges himself as comfortably around the boxes as he can and hopes in the early morning light no one will pay too much attention to them. It should be easy, right? They just need to slip out with the morning traffic.

He feels the car shudder slightly as Havoc shuts the door then makes his way into the driver’s seat. “Alright, Chief. Let’s get this show on the road.” The engine rumbles to life and then there’s nothing but the sound of his breathing in the enclosed space of the jacket. He can’t see much through the material but enough light filters through that he can tell they’re outside of the compound and on the roads. Gradually more sounds force the silence to recede and the smooth movement of the car slows to more starts and stops as they encounter more traffic.

“We’re headed through. Should be a few minutes and then we’ll be good.” Havoc says softly. Roy imagines he’s pulling into one of the lines to pass through the gates to the outer areas of Central. It’s not what he wanted but with the unrest plaguing the rest of the country precautions need to be taken to protect the people. Too many cases of car bombs made it necessary. He can’t help but hold his breath.

He can hear Havoc’s fingers tapping against the door and against the wheel as he shifts from one side to the other. Roy bets he’s itching for a smoke but there’s no time for that as they finally pull up to the front of the line and Havoc rolls down his window. There’s an inane bit of chatter and Roy’s barely breathing. It feels like an eternity they’ve been stopped. His heart nearly stops beating when he hears the attendant tell Havoc to pull over to the side after they’re through because they’re the random search car.

He holds his breath when Havoc doesn’t protest and drives on through, pulling over to the side. “Havoc.” He hisses through the jacket. He doesn’t dare move in case someone’s watching or anywhere near the car.

“I’ll take care of it.” Havoc says but he can hear the tension in his voice, his words tighter than normal. Havoc rolls down the window again and Roy hears the rustle of some papers. “You should take a look at these.”

“Whatever they are, sir, it doesn’t matter. My orders are to search your car before you proceed. Would you please step outside?” He can hear the freshness in the kid’s voice. The last thing they need is some young, overzealous soldier trying to throw his weight around. They need to be on the road without drawing attention to themselves. He can’t be discovered like this. With their luck right now, someone would probably think Havoc was abducting him or something and wouldn’t that go over extremely well.

“Kid, I know you’re new but I don’t have time for this. You’re making a mistake here.”

“No, sir. You’re the one making a mistake. Please step outside the car. I’m not going to ask again.” Roy’s heart pounds so fast he doesn’t hear a second individual approach. He nearly flinches when a second voice says, “Ramses, let him through. We’re to give Mustang’s personal unit quick passage.”

He hears the rustle of papers and a quick shuffle before they’re handed back. “Thanks, Pierson. Don’t be too hard on the kid.” He can imagine Havoc nodding as he rolls up the window and he catches a few low urgent words by Pierson. The engine starts and they’re rolling out of the checkpoint. It takes a long stretch before Roy relaxes. “Chief, think we’re okay.”

Roy doesn’t feel comfortable saying anything for a long while after they’ve left the city behind even though he knows they shouldn’t be stopped. The tension still lays coiled up in his body though the danger is long past. He finally eases out of his prone position and he doesn’t expect the cramps that seize up his body. He groans low and stretches out as best he can amid all the supplies gathered around him. “How far out are we, Havoc?”

Havoc taps his fingers against the steering wheel then replies, “About 40 miles or so. We’re still on the good roads for now. We’ll hit the bad ones in about another hour.”

Roy nods and glances out the window at the scenery passing by. It’s nothing much. Just the outskirts of the city with farmland starting to overtake the majority of the areas they pass. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to get out of the city. It will be a nice change of pace despite the reason they’re doing this. He lets out a relieved breath and leans back in the seat, moving the supplies around until he’s comfortable. He just hopes Ed’s departure is as uneventful as theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> As this was written for fmabigbang, we had the pleasure of working with the wonderful Rabu who drew the above picture illustrating a scene in this chapter.
> 
> To see the fullsize image and to leave Rabu comments please go [here](http://raburabu-sama.livejournal.com/3638.html).  
>  Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

If there’s one thing Ed’s gotten used to over the years, it’s waking up alone. Even when they were back in that little rent house on Columbus Street, Roy was always an early riser, and when Ed had the chance not to be, he wasn’t. Then you add in all the travel he does for his bastard, more often than not he’s climbing out of an empty bed. It’s never bothered him too much. It’s always made those special mornings that have become fewer and fewer over the years, when he woke up with Roy’s lazy ass draped over him possessively so much better, like a holiday just for the two of them. He’s accepted those things as an integral part of his life. But what he hasn’t gotten used to are these damn Presidential Suites. He might hate them too much for it to be rational.

Ed stands in the doorway and looks around the bedroom that’s nearly the size of the entire second floor of that first house and wonders if this will ever feel like home. Maybe it’s adjusting to all that space he can fill with whatever he wants. It’s never sat right when he’s managed and made do with much less. With Roy here it’s bearable. Without him it feels like he’s snuck into some fancy politician’s home and will be caught at any moment. He doesn’t feel like he belongs here and he hates it. 

Ed shakes his head as he looks at his clothes from last night rumpled up on the floor by the bed. If Roy were here, they’d already be put away with hardly a comment. He knows Roy prefers a tidy place, but tossing his things about is one of the only ways he can make this place even seem like he belongs. He should find other ways to do that but they’re always so busy and moving around so often he’s never had the time. Now looking at his carelessness just reminds him that Roy isn’t here and it makes him feel worse.

He crosses the large room quickly, feet sinking into the plush carpet with every step, and scoops up his dirty clothes. He carries them over to the hamper. Even that little thing is the best quality out there and he’ll never understand it. It’s not anything important. He lets the lid drop closed then looks over the extra-large trunks near the foot of the bed. They’re much nicer than anything the military would ever issue, even for the Fuhrer. 

Sturdy brass handles are inset into exquisitely carved woodwork inlaid with designs of fire and flames instead of the State symbols. Someone was either alchemically minded or consulted someone who was because protection symbols are also carved into the wood. Without a true array connecting them, they’re useless but their placement makes it possible if they need it. The wood is solid, good quality, and well-constructed to last years no matter what kind of abuse is thrown at them. Hours went into the crafting of this and the several others and from what Ed remembers, they were a gift from some self-important somebody somewhere who probably wanted Roy to visit. Or maybe they wanted to set him up to be killed. It’s hard to know these days. Ed runs his hand over his face and snorts softly to himself. Either way he’s been over them all morning making sure nothing was forgotten.

Roy wasn’t able to take much more than a uniform, toiletries, and his traveling clothes with him. Ed knows he’s also carrying his side arm, gloves, and one of General Hughes’ throwing knives, not that he knows how to use it. But it never hurts to have a concealed knife on you even if you are the Flame Alchemist. Roy’s never been helpless but the more advantages you have the better. Ed was left packing up all the “Fuhrer essentials” which for the most part he sees as much less than essential. Considering he traveled the country with one suitcase, this is ridiculous. But he did as he was told and packed uniforms, formal and informal as well as even fancier things just on the off chance Roy might need to meet with some dignitary or whatever. The pomp and circumstance of the government has to be kept up after all even if they’re going to a war zone. It all would seem stupid to him, were it not for what was hidden underneath it all.

Ed smirks at what he knows is a small arsenal of weapons and alchemic supplies. Encrypted notes on research he and Roy have collected over the years with just enough information to remind them of what they might need to know as well as supplies to make use of it. Preparations for biological alkahestry or war front alchemy lie hidden at the bottom of the trunks, buried under silly formal garments and sheaves of “official” paperwork. Just because they haven’t used alchemists in the border war yet doesn’t mean they haven’t been preparing and Ed’s coming loaded with more than Roy probably even realizes.

It’s all done, and there’s not much point in going over it again. He knows he was thorough enough the first time. Ed turns from the empty bedroom and fidgets with his uniform. He’s always hated the stupid formal uniforms. It always made him feel constricted and like he was wearing a damn skirt. He normally opts out of it but there’s no leeway today. They need everything to seem exactly the way it should be. The last thing they’ll need is someone scrutinizing him and possibly realizing the man he’s with isn’t the one he’s supposed to be.

Ed makes his way through the lonely suites, past the opulent side tables and wall decorations they didn’t find utterly horrible and in need of replacing, to the front room where thankfully he hears talking. At least he won’t need to spend any more time alone going through Roy’s things. Considering the risky situation they’re in, it’s made him more than a little uneasy. He just needs to keep reminding himself that he’ll see him again in a little over a week. Then he’ll bitch about those stupid wall decorations again and Roy will tell him he’s being irrational and no he won’t let him transmute them into something better. He’ll be coming back. They all will.

“The guard change today will be at exactly 2:17. That’s when we’ll be leaving the suites. They aren’t expecting us until 2:30 so this will have them scrambling.” Hawkeye frowns and Ed doesn’t have to guess why. She has to lie and deceive people she trusts the same way he is. She glances at the ledger in her hands, no doubt with a timetable neatly laid out. “If they’re more concerned with getting themselves in position, they’ll be less apt to be paying too much attention to Falman.”

“It’s a good plan, Lieutenant Colonel. One that’s been used by necessity in times of war on multiple occasions in the past.” 

Ed looks over at Falman and it’s all he can do not to do a double take. He didn’t sound anything like Roy, but the way he’s sitting in Roy’s favorite chair in the corner is uncanny. He’s in full dress uniform. _Roy’s_ full dress uniform, complete with the hat, and one of Roy’s customary black coats that’s been modified to fit him. His right leg’s crossed over his left at the knee and his head’s tilted against the two fingers pressed against his temple. His elbow rests on the arm of the chair while his left hand hangs carelessly off the other chair arm. It’s a casual listening pose he’s seen Roy do a thousand times before and Falman’s nailed it.

“Thank you, sir.” Hawkeye answers him seamlessly and it almost feels like they’re acting out a play, and in a way, maybe they are. They’ve been practicing their parts all day just to make sure no one slips up. Hawkeye finally seems to notice him and tilts her head as she asks, “Is everything ready?”

“Yeah. Tell Joga and Cintai the trunks are ready to be loaded.” Hawkeye nods and heads for the door, her steps brisk and efficient. Everything has to run smoothly from here on out. Only Roy’s personal guards will be allowed in the suite to get the luggage. With the exception of their customary core unit, those two are the only ones who know about the ruse and that’s only due to necessity. Ed knows his men were expecting to be part of the personal escort and he hates he can’t tell them about all of this. They’ll be part of the convoy, but it’ll still look like a snub and nothing could be further from the truth. He’d trust them completely, as he’s sure Hawkeye would trust many under her command, but they can’t be too careful.

Ed looks over to Falman, still sitting in the chair but no longer a perfect picture of his bastard. He’s uncrossed his legs and has the hat sitting in his lap with his hands folded over it. His head’s tilted forward causing his dyed hair to fall across his forehead in a way that looks very unRoylike. He’s not sure why at first, but then it hits him. He’s never seen Roy acting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Ed takes a step forward and calls out to him softly, deliberately using his real name. “You alright, Falman?”

His head snaps up quickly and after a brief moment he nods too eagerly. “Yes, sir. I’m fine. Just preparing myself for the procession. Have no fear, I’ll be ready to go when the time comes.”

“I know you will.” Ed smiles easily and walks over to the couch nearest the chair. More than once he’s lain on this couch and watched Roy study reports or a book, either way just enjoying watching him be so focused. He loves how he looks when he’s intent on something, focused eyes, elegant hands and motions filled with purpose, especially when that something is him. Ed shakes his head and pushes that out of his mind as he sits down and turns his attention to his bastard’s decoy.

“I’m…glad you think so…Edward.” Falman still stumbles slightly over his name. There’s so much he’s trying to get used to at once and attempting to echo the way Roy addresses him can’t be easy. It wasn’t easy for him to dissect their lives and feed the information to Falman either. But it is what it is. Roy always thinks he plays things cool, but anyone who knows him can hear the way his tone changes when he addresses Ed by his first name. It’s why in public it’s usually always “Fullmetal.”

“I don’t think so, I know so.” Falman’s eyes widen in surprise and Ed smiles easily again. He’s nervous, but from what Ed just saw he shouldn’t be. The damn bastard was right. Vato can pull this off. He just needs him to know that. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I-I…it’s not that, sir.” Falman fidgets with the hat in his hands and looks anywhere but at Ed. “I know the Fuhrer said he had full confidence in me but-but….”

“You don’t feel it.” Falman turns to look at him again and Ed easily reads the fear in his eyes. It’s fear of letting them all down and that’s the only thing that could derail them now, his lack of confidence in himself. “You know just now when I came in the room; I’d have sworn you were him.”

“You don’t have to say that, sir.” Falman looks down obviously assuming Ed’s patronizing him. It brings a smile to his lips he’s glad Falman doesn’t see. Ed learns forward to braces his arms against his legs.

“I’m not.” Ed waits for Falman to look at him again before continuing. “I think it’s fairly common knowledge I know Roy’s habits better than anyone.” He pauses again and Falman nods slowly. “What you just did there.” Ed motions toward him and the chair with his hand. “It was better than I’d probably have done.” Falman gives him a look of disbelief and he quickly continues. “I would know how he’d react to something or what he’d say or do but you got all the fine details I know I’d overlook and you’ve managed it in a day.” Ed locks his eyes with him and tells him in a serious tone he normally reserves for giving orders or reassuring his own men. “You can do this, Vato. You just need to believe in yourself.”

Silence stretches out between them until it’s broken by someone entering the room. Ed doesn’t acknowledge the interruption. He needs Falman to see he honestly means what he’s saying. He waits until Falman finally nods slowly and he sees a slight shift in his eyes. He’s listening now, and with any hope he’ll believe him.

“Is everything alright here, Ed?”

Ed turns slightly to face Hawkeye and nods. “Everything’s fine. Did they get the trunks taken out already?”

“Yes, Armstrong carried them out and Joga and Cintai are seeing them down. They should be back in a few minutes and everything will be ready.” Hawkeye gives a quick look between him and Falman but doesn’t say anything, not that she would. Even before he fully understood it, Hawkeye’s always been the picture of discretion. Now is no different.

“Alright then.” Ed slaps his hands on his thighs and pushes to his feet. “Let’s do this.” He runs a quick, nearly subconscious check of his weapons: throwing knives, pistol, everything all in place. He adjusts the long folds of his military dress uniform, scowling at the annoyance of it as a knock sounds at the door. He follows Hawkeye to the front foyer room to see the door opening, silent on its well-oiled hinges, and Armstrong peeking inside. His eyes land on Ed and he nods. 

“Everything is in place, Colonel.” There’s an underlying tension in his words Ed’s certain will only build until they’re all safe in the car. They’ve had nearly two days to prepare, but he doubts they’d feel ready with two weeks. It’s time to act

“Well then, I guess it’s showtime.” Hawkeye smiles slightly at his words and Armstrong nods as if he said something that was actually profound. Ed nearly rolls his eyes when he senses Falman come up behind him.

“I believe that should be my line, Edward.”

Ed turns around to find Falman doing it again, standing in a way that _looks_ just like Roy. It’s subtle, but the posture is a definite match. He’s slid his arms out of the coat so it’s draped over his shoulders looking more like a cape in that way Roy always likes to do. He’s never given Ed a reason why but he’s pretty sure it’s because it makes him look like a badass. Or maybe he just wants to be able to shake out of it at a moment’s notice. Either way Falman’s got it down perfectly all the way to the slightly widened stance and head tipped forward to cause his hair to brush over his eyes.

“I suppose you’re right.” Ed smirks as Falman puts his hat on and he can’t help himself. “C’mon, bastard. Let’s do this.”

Hawkeye takes a sharp breath he’s sure is in surprise, but Vato seems unfazed. Good. He must understand his comment for the compliment it was. Ed turns for the door and they file out: Hawkeye, then him, Falman, and Armstrong taking up the rear. Joga and Cintai are waiting for them at the outer doors of the suite, serious looks on their faces, and they walk in front as the rest of them get into the planned formation. Armstrong walks to Falman’s left, his size blocking most people’s view. Ed stays to his right with Hawkeye behind them in the corridors too small for her to walk beside Ed. Falman does a decent job mirroring Roy’s usual gliding gait and Ed’s glad he practiced walking with the slightly taller boots. He’d been tempted to add a switchblade within the additional rubber but hadn’t had time to figure out the mechanisms.

As planned, the guards along the way are in the middle of their shift change and are scrambling to get into position Out here hushed voices travel only short distances but are still nearly absorbed by the plush tapestries. Every blue uniformed soldier along their way has their back ramrod straight and thankfully seem too distracted to be focused on them. Everything was planned so all the corridors leading to the main elevator would be blocked off and thankfully they still seem to be. They walk quickly, arms raising and falling in salute as they pass, but just as they reach the large elevator doors a voice calls out.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye, wait. Preparations aren’t finalized downstairs.” It’s the lead guard commander for Central Command and there’s no question he’d recognize Falman.

Ed holds his breath as they wait for the elevators doors to open. Normally Roy would call out a greeting and make small talk but they need to limit contact as much as possible. They’re pretty sure they can pass off the change in behavior as Roy having the war and their traveling on his mind. Hawkeye curses softly under her breath. This is one of the people she was most concerned about lying to. 

Roqa has been assisting her with Central security for as long as Roy’s been Fuhrer and he’s fairly certain they’ve worked together long before that. Ed blows out a breath when the elevator dings and the doors open but he can still hear rapid footsteps approaching. Joga and Cintai immediately step inside with Falman right at their heels. He and Hawkeye quickly follow but it’s going to be too late. It’s going to be over before it even begins.

“Fuhrer Mustang, if you could wait a few more min—.” Roqa reaches to stop the elevator doors from closing but Armstrong blocks his hand as well as nearly the entire doorway.

“You have my apologies, Major, but circumstances require we leave immediately.” Ed glimpses Roqa trying to look around him to catch Hawkeye’s gaze but somehow Armstrong seems to take up more space than he usually does. He pulls his hand back as the doors begin to close and Ed hears Hawkeye’s soft sigh beside him.

“Thank you, Alex,” she murmurs quietly and Armstrong nods silently as the tension in the small space intensifies.

“Well, that was close.”

Ed turns his head to see Cintai elbowing Joga in the side and he gives her a sheepish look. He doesn’t blame him for stating the obvious. They’re all trying to deal with this the best way they can. He notices Falman messing with one of his gloves and he nudges him, saying softly, “Stop fidgeting. Roy only does that when he’s about to torch someone. People see you doing that and they’ll get nervous.”

Falman’s eyes widen and he nods before dropping his hands to his sides as the elevator slows to a stop. The doors creak open slowly and the main entrance hall to Central Command is a loud buzz that startles him at first. He knew there would be a lot of people to see them off, but this is ridiculous. Rows and rows of people are pressed together with the ones in the front leaning against steel barricades though soldiers patrol just beyond them. Everyone from old to young, adults to children, are in the press of people. They’re all dressed in their finest and some wave flags while others point cameras in their direction. He can practically chart how word of their appearance spreads through the crowd by the turning heads. And this is just the entrance hall! Thankfully the guards have the majority of the crowd outside while the barricades also serve to make a large pathway for them to walk.

“Make sure you do that wave thing to the people that Mustang always does when we get outside,” he murmurs under his breath. Falman nods, and he probably knew it anyway, but if he’s anywhere near as nervous as Ed the reminder won’t hurt. They get back into tight formation around the Fuhrer as they exit the elevator and Falman pulls his hat down a little lower. This is it, for better or worse. They make their way quickly through the massive expanse of marble floors, each echoing step sounding almost like a gunshot to Ed’s ears.

The massive doors leading outside gape open before them and Ed squints at the bright sunlight. They were supposed to be opened once they got close due to sniper concerns but with this many people…he doubts they could’ve done much else. Maybe the glaring sun will help them because right now he can barely see a thing. They pass outside and Ed puts on his most protective persona, glaring at anyone and everyone who looks their way. Chatter about everything from how handsome everyone looks to asking which one’s the Fuhrer to wishes for a quick and brutal end to the border war drift within earshot. He sees Falman wave out of the corner of his eye but he pays it no mind, just like he wouldn’t Roy. He keeps his eyes on the crowd as they hurry toward the big, black car with darkened windows. Almost there. Almost—

“Fuhrer Mustang!”

Ed sucks in a sharp breath because there’s no mistaking that voice. It’s Brentwood, and if he’s here they’re screwed because that man will not take no for an answer. He’d give anything for a reason to punch him in the face just once. They reach the car and start climbing in but Ed can still hear the idiot coming closer. Why the fuck aren’t the soldiers blocking his path? They’re letting him walk uncontested straight up to the Fuhrer. They’re trained better than that especially with all the assassination attempts. He thinks he hears someone finally ask for credentials only to get brushed off by a loud “hmmph” and the protest of the soldier as he’s no doubt shoved aside. He slides into the car after Falman and sits across from him as Armstrong tries to get in quick beside Ed and shut the door.

“Do you know who I am? Step off soldier or I will personally have you stripped of your rank.”

Ed winces because even as the door closes he knows it’s not over. Hawkeye’s beside Falman, hand on her gun and he smiles despite himself when he hears her curse softly. “If he’d just let me shoot him, this would all be over and done with.”

Ed can’t agree with that sentiment more but it’s not one of their options. “Maybe I can use alchemy to stun him or something. I’ve never done it before but—”

“Let me take care of it.”

Ed freezes with his hands nearly clapped together and stares at Falman. Is he serious? It’s great he’s feeling more confident but this guy’s the real deal. They can’t risk it. “I don’t think—”

Tapping on the window cuts off his thought and before Ed can manage another word Falman lowers the dark glass slightly. Dead silence falls over the interior of the car as they hold their breaths. Ed feels utterly helpless because if this all falls apart what can they do? As expected, Brentwood’s puffed up and red faced on the other side. Falman tilts his head forward, using the hat to shade his face in the dark interior of the car but Ed doesn’t think it’s going to be enough. This fool’s going to blow the entire mission.

“Fuhrer Mustang. Thank goodness. I needed to speak to you about this disturbing message I received from one of your subordinates. Honestly, the gall of this man and his misinforma—”

Falman lifts his left hand so the white gloves and red flame array are plainly seen in the narrow shaft of sunlight coming through the window. He toys with the cuff of it with his right hand and Brentwood immediately goes quiet, his eyes locked on the deadly gloves. Falman continues to fidget with them as he pitches his voice a little lower and speaks. 

“I’ve read the report and I can assure you the research is impeccable. I have the utmost confidence in my Head of Investigations and I can assure you this matter will be dealt with thoroughly upon my return. Unless….” He leaves the sentence hanging and Brentwood dabs at his damp, pudgy forehead that’s broken out in a sweat that Ed’s convinced is _not_ due to the warm day.

“Un-unless what, Fuhrer…sir. You have to understand. It wasn’t all my—” He cuts off immediately when Falman curls his fingers and suddenly pulls the back of the glove taut across his knuckles. Then he pauses in a way that makes Ed grin evilly as the pig squirms even more.

“Unless you look after things for me while I’m gone. I can’t promise my man will lose the report, he is quite fastidious with his records, but if the climate in Central is still the same when I retu—”

“I’ll see to it personally!” Brentwood immediately begins to back away, obviously afraid “the Fuhrer” might change his mind. “You have my word, Fuhrer Mustang. I’ll make sure—”

His words are cut off as Falman raises the window and Ed can no longer hold back a laugh. He reaches forward and shoves at Falman’s knee. “You enjoyed that!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Falman replies with a small smile the likes of which Ed’s never seen on his face before. It’s confident _and_ satisfied. “I was merely trying to help him understand the situa—”

“Bullshit, Falman.” Ed’s head whips around at Hawkeye’s words and he grins at the knowing look she shoots him. “I’m just disappointed I wasn’t the one to make him nearly wet himself.”

The entire car erupts in laughter laced with uneasy relief. This is only the first stage of their journey, but at least they’ve made a decent start.

~*~*~*~

A day’s worth of travel is enough to get anyone in a bad mood. But a day cramped up in a car with three other people is almost too much to bear, especially if you’re more used to traveling by train. He constantly kept bumping into Armstrong as he shifted in the seat and Hawkeye had to ask him more than once to stop moving. When they finally made their stop for the night, an hour and a half later than planned he was instantly antsy to get out and move around. He knows Roy’s always preferred automobiles to trains but he never could understand why. On a train, he would’ve been able to stretch out more or get up and move around. In the car, he had to be scrunched up with Armstrong next to him. It nearly gave him flashbacks to traveling with Al before he got his body back. 

Ed leans back against the side of the car and watches the back door of the hotel. It’s a decent place, well maintained, not too extravagant, but fitting enough for the Fuhrer to stay in this close to Central City without cries of it being beneath him. The two wings of the hotel cradle a welcoming fountain and garden in the courtyard and behind them doors lead into the lobby, but they’ll hardly see any of that. Now and along the trip they’ll be sneaking in and out through back doors as much as they can, anything to try and keep as many eyes off Falman as possible. It’s maddening to think that just one person seeing the wrong thing at the wrong time could blow everything.

But they made it, at least for the night.

Ed lets out a long sigh and attempts to maintain focus. He’s sleepy and he knows from experience that’s the best time for people to strike. They aren’t safe yet so he needs to stay aware, but his mind keeps drifting. He knew traveling with this many people would be a much different ordeal than any other he’s ever headed up. It just turns out it’s a _lot_ more different than he expected. They needed to figure which units got actual rooms in the hotel and how they were going to settle down the others for the night. The vehicles and trucks may be good for travel but Ed has no illusions about how unfit they are for anything else. Then there’s the cost of food and the resources they’re using up and the politics, always the fucking politics. With his men, it’s not that difficult to get moving and find lodgings, but when there’s an entire battalion to look out for…it’s a whole different story.

He stifles a yawn and straightens up instantly when he hears footsteps on the packed gravel parking lot. He casually moves his hand close to his pistol as he surveys the area without being too overt. Trees line the sides of the lot and beyond them are the hotel’s vineyards and more fields beyond that. Patrols have already been posted but they’re still on unfamiliar ground. He relaxes somewhat when he sees his First Lieutenant coming his way. Too many soldiers in the military carry that close cropped hair style but that hitching gait of Markus’ is unmistakable. He shifts slightly so he’s blocking the window of the car behind him. It’s dark and with the windows tinted it’s nearly impossible to see inside but it doesn’t hurt to be too careful.

“Markus.” He nods and looks up slightly as the soldier reaches him. Markus covers a yawn with the back of his hand and it still surprises Ed how light his palms are compared to the rest of his dark skin. The traces of their trip from Aerugo still haven’t disappeared completely, but he’s still looking much fresher than Ed. They must’ve gotten rest along the way just as he’d suggested. “Did you travel ok?”

“Yes, sir.” Markus smiles and glances around. “We’re all rested and ready to escort and look after the Fuhrer.” Markus glances to the car Ed’s leaning on in obvious expectation. Ed hates to be the one to disappoint him because he doesn’t deserve this.

“That’s good to hear.” Ed pauses and swallows against the bad taste in his mouth from the coming deception. “But that’s not where I need you tonight.” Ed catches a hint of a frown before Markus schools his expression to one of indifference. “I need you and the others to secure and watch the perimeter. There are two rooms for the unit on the first floor reserved for you all to work in shifts.”

Markus blinks and rocks back on his heels. “Are you sure, sir? The perimeter? That’s not exactly what you’ve been personally training us for….” 

“I realize that, Lieutenant, and I have full confidence that you and the others could take a more direct role in the Fuhrer’s safety, but for right now this is where I need you.” Ed takes another breath then changes his tone slightly, making his next words more of an order. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Markus replies shortly and snaps a quick salute, something he never usually does in meetings like this. Granted, Ed doesn’t usually keep his conversation to nothing but orders either. He nods at the gesture then attempts to keep his face expressionless as Markus turns and walks away.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Ed sighs and lets his shoulders sag in exhaustion and shame. Markus was right. He has trained them for this. But training them to protect his Fuhrer meant he taught them too much about Roy for them to be fooled by a decoy. They’ve been around him too much, he knows they’d know Roy too well. That’s why he has to keep them at a distance. Even if the job must feel like a snub to them, it’s not. There’s no one else he’d trust to look out for them than his own men.

Ed jerks his head in the direction of the back door when he hears it creak open. Armstrong steps out and Ed tilts his head in question. At his nod, Ed taps on the window glass behind him. The coast should be cleared inside for him to take Falman up to the room for the night. They’d been spared the need to meet with the hotel manager by having everything arranged before they set out. They won’t have that luxury the further away from Central they get. Thankfully they were able to secure an entire wing on the second floor so they shouldn’t encounter anyone if everything goes as planned. Ed reaches up to rub the back of his neck and roll his shoulders. He’s looking forward to this day being over.

The door lock clicks behind him and he moves out of the way for Falman to climb out. He’s wearing the hat pulled down low again with the coat draped over his shoulders and Ed quickly escorts him to the backdoor, deliberately being a little closer to him than he’d like to be. If Markus or his men are watching, they’d know something was up if he kept his distance, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still uncomfortable. 

He backs off a little once they make it inside and they both follow Armstrong down a corridor devoid of guests or hotel personal to a waiting elevator. Ed vaguely notices the hall is tastefully decorated with landscapes and vases filled with the local flowers reside on well-polished end tables. Their faint scent fills the air as they tread on comfortable carpeting and pass wooden doors with burnished gold numbers glinting under the hallway lights. The elevator’s just as well up kept as everything else they’ve seen and it’s nice, but it does nothing to break the tension. No one says a word the entire ride up. Exhaustion and stress are definitely taking a heavy toll.

The elevator opens on the second floor and Ed sees Joga and Cintai flanking the doors and waiting for them. They were probably the ones who helped clear the floor. Ed nods to each of them then follows Armstrong down another empty hall to the room at the end. He can’t help but feel like the warm of the lower level recedes with each step. No one else will be allowed on the second floor and if any of them are needed, they’ll head down or meet them outside the room Falman will be staying in. He watches Armstrong unlock the door and quickly enters the room on his and Falman’s heels. His eyes scan the room: windows with curtains drawn closed, open door to the bathroom, two trunks with the more sensitive materials, and their travel bags all accounted. Ed waits until the door clicks shut behind him before letting out a long breath.

“Finally.” He glances over at Armstrong who’s moved over to stand near the pair of armchairs in the room as Falman pulls off his hat and runs his fingers through his dark, dyed hair. Ed leans back against the door because right here will be good until he feels less like sliding to the floor. “What took so long? I was beginning to think we’d have to sleep in the car.” He doesn’t mean to sound so irritable but they were waiting for a good half an hour at least.

“My apologies, Colonel Elric. It seems the hotel staff had to move two guests out of this wing after we arrived.”

Ed shakes his head and reaches to undo the tie in his hair. He shakes his hair out and rolls his eyes, combing a hand through the strands before he pushes from the door. “Of course they did.” He snorts angrily and looks around. The room isn’t as big as it should be but they didn’t want to deal with larger suites for “security’s sake.” In all honesty, the more room, the more windows, and since they aren’t doing more than sleeping here, it doesn’t matter. 

In one corner of the room, there’s an oversized bed with four pillows in a light shade of brown. It complements the darker colored armchairs while the table and dresser are a medium brown. Ed glances at the reddish brown curtains pulled closed over the windows and he can’t help but scowl at all the damn brown. Could it feel more like a dark hole? There’s a door near the bed he assumes to be for the bathroom and it’s all good enough but he’s still annoyed. “They knew we were coming. They should’ve had that already taken care of.”

“I’m fairly certain it wasn’t a complete misunderstanding but it’s cleared up now.” Ed nods and from the tone of Armstrong’s words, he gets the feeling he was part of doing the clearing up.

Ed sighs. It was most likely some harmless people with some agenda wanting to be close to the Fuhrer, but they can’t deal with that now. Were Roy actually here, he’d probably have had them checked out before he had an audience with them despite everything. The man never does stop working. He knows it’s no vacation, but at least for a week or so Roy should be able to get away from some of that.

“We shouldn’t have any other problems tonight.” Ed looks up when Armstrong speaks again. “Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye and I will be in the room adjoining this one.” That would probably be the other door near the dresser. Ed looks at him curiously as he continues. “We’ll be sleeping in shifts so no need for another room.” 

“Wait,” Ed runs his fingers through his hair and steps further into the room. “That shouldn’t be necessary. You two don’t need to do that and if you are count me in.” Armstrong’s words sink in a little more and he frowns. “What about my room?” No one answers but he does receive a “look” from both Falman and Armstrong. “Ah, of course. I wasn’t thinking.”

Falman takes a step away from the table where he’s laid out the black coat and his dress uniform jacket. “I’ll be more than happy to take the couch. I realize this is an inconvenience….”

Ed expects to her “sir” at the end of that statement, but he knows why he doesn’t. Falman doesn’t need to slip up later so best to practice even in private. “No, no, it’s fine. The Fuhrer should be in his bed.” He and Roy have always kept their relationship relatively quiet but there are plenty who know he stays in his room. Having his own now, even quietly, would raise suspicions. “I’ll take the couch and I assume,” he glances at Armstrong, “that I’m to stay in the room and let you and Hawkeye do the security?”

Armstrong nods once. “Exactly right, Colonel Elric. We’ll take care of things tonight. No need to be concerned.”

Ed snorts and heads over to what looks like the closet. There should probably be extra blankets in there. If not, he’s taking one off the damn bed. At least the couch looks like it’ll be halfway comfortable. He shakes his head. There’s no doubt about it, this is going to be a long trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrit are always loved and appreciated. :-)


	3. Chapter 3

It’s Roy’s turn at the wheel when the car starts to sound different than it has been for the past few days. Havoc starts out of a sound sleep and makes an unintelligible grunt from the backseat when the car shakes and sputters again. Havoc shifts around and grabs the shoulder of Roy’s seat. “What’s going on, Chief? We under attack?”

He has to chuckle. Ed has nothing to worry while he’s traveling with Havoc. Even half-awake he’s looking for an ambush. Roy shakes his head. “No, we’re not under attack. The engine’s just started misfiring or something.” Havoc moves around in the backseat again and Roy glances in the mirror to see him scratching the back of his head. He hopes he has an idea about what could be wrong because as much as he’s driven cars he’s never learned to work on them.

“Has it done that before?” Havoc rolls down the window and Roy hears the familiar snap-hiss of his lighter followed by the inevitable smell of smoke. He’d say something about it, considering it’s not very pleasant in the enclosed space, but he knows from experience it helps Havoc think. Roy’s fairly certain he’s attempted to keep his smoking to a minimum, and he does always put the window down so it hasn’t been too bad.

“It did it a couple other times, but then stopped.” Roy grips the wheel tighter and frowns. They weren’t able to requisition a newer car for this mission without drawing too much attention. This one has more miles on it than he’d like, but from the records he saw it seemed to be dependable even though it had a fair bit of miles on it. Could the modifications Ed made be affecting the car? They had to have added weight to it. Have they sabotaged themselves by trying to play it too safe?

Havoc leans forward again and Roy forces himself to ignore the smoke curling from the end of the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Give it a little more gas on the next hill.” Roy does as asked, pushing the pedal down a little more than he would normally and braces for another loud noise or the entire car rattling. But nothing happens. The car picks up just fine as they crest another hill in the road and Roy turns smoothly through the curve. They’re nearly out of the lower edge of the mountain range cutting across this side of the country. Soon enough they’ll be in the denser forests and interspersed farmland of the West. With any luck, they’ll make the next town right after nightfall.

They continue to ride in silence and Roy strains to hear any of the rattling sounds he heard before but there’s nothing but the smooth hum of the engine and the sound of the wind whipping by the half lowered back window. Roy shivers slightly. In this area, the open window quickly cools down the interior of the car and he bites his tongue to keep from snapping at Havoc. They’ve been getting along fairly well so far, and he doesn’t want to make the situation more tense than it already is so he keeps his discussion about the car. “So, what do you think? Are we in trouble?”

“Hmmm, can’t really say for sure, Chief. It’s sounded fine for a while now. Maybe it worked whatever was causing the noise out of its system.” Roy nods, but isn’t completely convinced. Havoc reclines in the backseat again and thankfully tosses out the extinguished cigarette. The window goes up and after a few more minutes Roy’s fingers and tips of his ears start to feel a little less chilled. That helps his mood considerably and he can finally relax into the drive again.

Roy really can’t remember the last time he’s driven this long before. He’s never been on a road trip this long and he actually wishes he’d taken the wheel sooner. The feeling of driving on an open road is intoxicating and something he’s been missing for far too long. For the first time in years he actually feels free from the chains of politics and the tedium of command. It turns out Ed was right. He did need a vacation, not that he’ll admit that to him. It’s not the ideal get away, but it’s more rejuvenating than he ever imagined it would be.

The road becomes less winding and more even as they get away from the mountains and Roy can pick up a little more speed. The thickets of trees thin out until the hills and the horizon are visible through them and the chill in the air dissipates a little. This still isn’t a very traveled pass, and won’t be the one Ed and the convoy will come through, but it’s actually better than either he or Havoc expected. He was afraid they would’ve had to creep through at a crawl but they actually made fairly decent time. Now that the landscape is evening out things should be even better. Roy spots a small lake off in the distance to the north and relaxes back in the seat with one hand on the wheel until a loud bang makes him sit up straight again.

The car rattles and shakes so hard he has to grip the wheel with both hands to keep it steady. Roy carefully pushes the pedal down a bit more, hoping to drive through the disruption when the tremors rock the car again. A loud pop comes out of the back end and Roy grits his teeth. He should’ve realized things were going far too good for their luck to hold. He hears Havoc shift around in the back amongst the supplies then feels his seat depress slightly as Havoc grips the corner of it.

“That’s what I was afraid of. Probably need to pull over, Chief. Sounds like it’s misfiring.”

Roy growls and smacks his hand against the wheel. The sun’s already getting low in the sky and they’re a few hours away from the nearest farm town. If they have to stop too long, there’s no way they’ll make it. Some of these places are just too hard to find in the dark. Roy pulls completely off the road in the next clearing, not that it probably matters. They haven’t even seen another car today so it’s doubtful another will be along any time soon. He just hopes whatever’s wrong is something Jean can fix or they may be in serious trouble.

Once he brings the car to a complete stop, he twists around in the seat to look back at Jean who’s reaching for yet another cigarette. “You said you expected this. What is it? Why didn’t you say something before?” He attempts to keep the irritation in his voice to a minimum but from the sheepish look on Havoc’s face he obviously doesn’t succeed. Fair enough, Havoc should know by now that he doesn’t like being anything less than fully informed.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything.” Havoc rubs the back of his head and thankfully doesn’t light the cigarette between his lips yet. “I was hopin’ I was wrong, but the way it’s riding it’s definitely a misfire.” Roy shoots him an expectant look when he stops talking and Havoc shrugs. “It could be loss of spark in the distributor or the plugs, bad fuel to air mix, or loss of compression in the cylinder.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Roy’s hand grips the edge of the seat and he frowns in frustration. Is this how people feel when he and Ed start talking about alchemy? Some of the words he’s using are familiar but Havoc could be speaking another language for all Roy understands.

Havoc gives him a long steady look then says evenly, “Let’s just hope the head gasket’s not blown.” He opens the door without another word and Roy sighs as Havoc slides out of the car. He doesn’t like the sound of that.

Roy opens his door and climbs out as Havoc pops the hood. He glances at the woods surrounding them and if nothing else they provide them cover. The only way someone would chance upon them out here is if they actually happened to be traveling the road or were a local out in the woods. Neither seems very likely with what they’ve seen of the area so far. If whatever’s wrong with the car isn’t something Havoc can fix, it’s unlikely any help will be coming along soon.

He looks back toward the car to see Havoc leaning over the engine that’s still making ticks and soft hissing sounds as it cools down. Roy shifts on his feet as Havoc pokes around at things then scratches his head again. He checks some wires here and there then pokes at something else Roy can’t name. Finally Roy’s patience is stretched to the limit and he asks, “Well? What is it?”

Havoc looks up from the engine in surprise then rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, it’s probably going to take me a little while to figure that out, Chief.” He glances to the engine then back at Roy. “Do you think, maybe, you could warm up something to eat?” I don’t know about you but if I have another one of those ration bars—“

“I get it.” Roy puts up his hand to make him stop talking. He feels useless enough as it is. He doesn’t need Havoc giving him apologetic orders to get him out of his hair. Roy turns from the front of the car and heads to the back, pausing only to lean in and hit the lever for the trunk. Once they got away from the city they were able to rearrange the supplies to make the backseat a little more comfortable. They’ve each taken naps along the way to drive further than they could otherwise so moving some of the provisions into the trunk proved helpful.

Roy rummages around until he finds the small military issue camp stove along with one of the bottles of fuel. He carries it a short distance from the car then assembles the single burner to the fuel container. He makes another trip back to the car for a pot as well as a large can of soup and a stirring spoon. The last couple of days they haven’t bothered with setting up to cook as they were trying to make good time, especially through the mountain pass. Now is as good a time as any for a real, hot meal. Roy pumps the small hand pump at the base of the stove to pressurize the fuel then carefully opens the control valve. He gives the fuel a moment to flow through the vaporizer then reaches in his pocket for his ignition glove. A snap of his fingers later and a small flame springs to life.

Once the flame is burning steadily, he opens the can of soup and pours it into the pan. He makes sure the entire setup is sturdy then heads back to the car to get bowls, spoons, some packaged bread and water as well as blankets to sit on. He gets comfortable in front of the stove and gives the soup a stir once it begins to simmer. He’s grateful the conditions are nearly ideal for having to deal with whatever’s wrong with the car. It could be worse in many ways and at least this far from the mountain pass his coat’s more than sufficient to ward off any chill in the air. It’s not long before the delicious aroma of chicken and vegetable stew fills his sense and he licks his lips. Havoc was right. This is much better than cold ration bars.

“That smells good already.” Roy looks up when he hears Havoc’s voice and as he comes closer he sees there’s something in his hand. Havoc sits down on the blanket laid out for him places the dirty car part on the grass. Roy glances at it, but doesn’t say anything yet. If Havoc’s anywhere near as hungry as he is he’ll want to eat first. Roy ladles out soup for each of them and Havoc takes one of the water bottles and attempts to wash his oily hands. He dries them with a rag he pulls from his back pocket and Roy hands him a steaming bowl of soup and a hunk of the bread. They eat in silence for a bit until Roy’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“So, how bad is it?” Jean’s eating instead of smoking and he hopes that’s a good sign. If they were really in trouble he’s fairly certain Havoc would’ve come over with the bottle of whiskey stowed away under the backseat. But considering right now he seems more concerned with his meal than the car, it can’t be too bad.

“Definitely could be worse.” Havoc dips a piece of his bread into the soup then pops it in his mouth. “Started by checking the plugs and plug wires. Plugs aren’t in great shape but it looks like this is our problem.” He wipes his hand on his pants then picks up the rounded, dome shaped part and tosses it on the ground beside Roy.

Roy finishes off his soup then sets the bowl aside and picks up the offending engine part. The top of it seems to have a place for five wires to plug into and he figures those must be the wires Havoc was talking about. He turns the part over and sees instantly recognizable carbon deposits. He glances over to Havoc and finally swallows his pride enough to ask, “So what is it?”

“It’s the distributor cap.” Havoc reaches for the cigarette behind his ear and lights it. Then he puts a hand behind him and leans back a bit as he takes a long, slow drag. “See that little crack down the middle? That would be our problem.”

Roy squints at the hard molded resin with what looks like brass contacts for the wire connections and down the center he sees a hairline crack about the width of his nail. He runs his thumb along the imperfection and gives Havoc a skeptical look. “This is what caused all the misfiring and shaking?”

“Yep.” Havoc takes another slow pull on his cigarette and turns a bit more toward Roy. “That cap is what encloses the sparks from the plugs and ignites the fuel.” He frowns at the part in Roy’s hand then shrugs. “Were we still in a drier area it might not be as much of an issue but with those cool mountain passes and the humidity from that lake….” He makes a motion with his hand toward the lake Roy saw earlier and it all comes together.

“The moisture seeped in and killed the spark.” Havoc nods immediately and Roy stares as the distributor cap again. Well that would explain the carbon scoring on the underside of it. He looks over at Havoc again. “Could the extra weight on the car have caused this?”

“Nah, probably not. Those things wear out from time to time.” Havoc chuckles and Roy shoots him a puzzled look. “Pretty funny the car ends up having issues with holding a spark. Pity you can’t just snap your fingers and keep it going. Guess it’s kind of like the rai—”

Roy glares at him to stop the familiar teasing about his usefulness in the rain. Jean knows better than anyone what he can do with a room full of water. He at least has the courtesy to look chagrined, but Roy knows it’s only for his benefit. He stares down at the part once more and finally nods.

“Well, I can definitely repair the crack. It’ll be nearly as strong as it was originally.” He assumes that will be good enough for this fix. Most people don’t realize that alchemy isn’t magic, that you can only repair something with what was there to being with and that you can’t make something stronger than it was without adding to it. Also any time you use alchemy on something it leaves a signature that most people unfamiliar with it would never notice. But Jean isn’t anyone, and with all the years he’s spent working with him and Ed he’d know if he were asking something Roy couldn’t manage. “So if I get this repaired now, could you get us running again tonight?”

Jean rubs the back of his head in thought and crushes out the cigarette into the grass beside him. “I…could, Chief. But I’d rather not. I know we have some lights, but I’d feel better getting it all back together under the sunlight.” He glances up at the rapidly fading daylight and Roy nods. It’s probably for the best anyway since they’d have to be looking for the next village in the dark and would probably miss it.

“Well then I guess that means we’re camping out.” The temperature hasn’t dropped too much with the darkening sky. A small fire along with the packed sleeping bags should be more than enough to keep them warm enough. Havoc nods at his suggestion and begins gathering up the cooking supplies to take back to the car. Roy gives the distributor cap one more look then decides it can wait until the morning as well. He’ll need to find a spot not covered in grass to etch the array anyway. He hands the part to Havoc then pushes up to look for some firewood.

They do have some standard issue fuel to burn, but they’ll waste a lot less by supplementing it. There’s a thick copse of trees not far from where they’re stopped and before long Roy’s collected more than enough deadwood to get them started. Havoc might need to gather another load before the night’s over, but they can deal with that later. He carries his armload of wood back and after a few minutes of getting it arranged and a snap of his fingers later they have a nice warm fire. Havoc sets out the sleeping rolls and they both get situated on the soft grass as night falls completely.

The whole camping out scenario is definitely not what he expected from this trip, but it’s surprisingly relaxing. He can’t even remember the last time he was out somewhere under the stars like this with only one companion. The night is so dark and clear here, so unlike being in the center of Central City, and he had no idea how much he’d missed just looking at the stars until now. When’s the last time he’s even been outside?

Images flood his mind and he forces himself to suppress the thoughts of him and Ed lying out under the night sky in the backyard of that old house they used to have. As much as he’d like to lose himself to those memories, he can’t let himself get distracted. Missing Edward is a vice and a luxury he can’t indulge in no matter how much it eats at him. Back then he thought things were so complicated with homunculi and alchemy puzzles. What he’d give now for something so simple as a monster, even one with a friend’s face….

Roy sits up suddenly and shakes his head. Havoc’s quiet on the other side of the fire and he might think he was asleep were it not for the thin tendril of smoke rising from his position. “Hey, Havoc.” There’s a rustling of blankets and a muffled, unintelligible reply but it doesn’t deter him. He needs a distraction and he’s certain Jean can provide it. “You’ve still been training with Edward, correct? Still sparring when you have the opportunity?”

“What? Umm, yeah?” Havoc sits up and rubs the back of his neck as he snuffs out his cigarette on the ground. “Why? Is there a problem?”

Roy grins then curls and uncurls his hands. It’s been so long, too long. He shoots Havoc a wicked look across the low burning fire and pushes himself to his feet. “No problem. No problem at all.” He makes a “follow me” gesture with his hand and takes a step away from the fire. “Come on, Lieutenant Colonel. Come show me what you’ve got.”

Roy’s blood rushes with adrenaline at the very thought of doing something physical. It’s been so long since he’s been able to train or spar or really do anything besides sit behind a desk or in endless meetings. He and Ed used to make time for this almost daily and he misses it more than he ever expected. The only thing better than this would be if Ed was the one here, but if he were Roy’s fairly certain sparring wouldn’t be the first item on the list.

“Ahhhhh, yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Chief.”

Roy spins around and frowns when he sees Havoc still sitting at the fire and patting himself down for his smokes. He finally finds them and fishes one out, keeping his eyes averted. Roy clenches his fists and takes a step Havoc’s direction. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid to take me on? Let’s go, Lieutenant, don’t let your Fuhrer down.”

“Yeah, uhh, it’s not you I’m worried about.” Roy scowls again as Havoc flips his lighter open and lights his cigarette. He shakes his head as he blows out smoke and finally looks up at Roy. “There’s no way I’m taking the blame for you getting to the West in less than pristine condition.” He tilts his head and shrugs. “You may scare me with all that flame stuff you do and you can threaten me with a court martial if you like, but I’d take either over Ed finding out I was throwing punches at you.”

Roy sighs and his shoulders sag, the momentary rush of adrenaline fading as fast as it came. He would like to push the issue, but Havoc’s right. They don’t need to be wasting their energy on something just to keep his mind distracted. He moves back to his spot by the fire and settles down again. “I suppose you’re right. It wouldn’t do for me to have to explain why my Lieutenant Colonel and escort looks worse for wear.”

Havoc chuckles from across the fire and Roy smiles. He has no doubt he might be able to surprise Havoc some if they actually did spar, but he knows who’s in better fighting shape. Ed’s always been a taskmaster when it came to fighting practice and he honestly never imagined he’d miss that quite so much. But looking back now, he knows it was all just a way to protect him as well as get closer to him. Roy sighs as he stares up at the stars again. It’s a silly thought, but he wonders if somewhere to the east Ed’s doing the same thing.

Almost as soon as he thinks those thoughts, a low rumble echoes through the mountains they just passed through. It sounds like rain and it sounds close, but it’s not. The mountains carry the sound that’s probably several days behind them, if not more. He and Havoc lucked out and missed the storms that many times plague the areas around the Marchetti mountain range. As the low rumble reverberates in the distance again, he hopes Ed and the rest of the convoy will be as lucky.

~*~*~*~

The morning dawns dim and dreary and Ed scowls out the second floor window of the inn. The sun’s rays barely cut through the low hanging clouds and hardly penetrate the thick haze of rain. The darkened sky makes it seem much earlier than it actually is. That alone would be enough to put Ed in a foul mood, but coupled with the fact he hardly got any sleep on the uncomfortable couch that was more like a cot, the promise for the day was over before it even began. 

Days like today are good for one thing: burrowing under the covers and, if you’re lucky, snuggling up close to another warm body. But neither of those things will be happening today or anytime soon. Ed stretches his arms over his head in an attempt to unwind the knots in his back and peers out at the bustle of troops outside. He doesn’t envy them the task ahead. It’s hard enough to get the entire convoy moving on a good day, much less one stalled by rain. They’re usually lucky to get the whole circus on the road an hour after the process begins. Today he has no doubt they’ll be delayed and it chafes at him that there’s not much he can do about it.

Ed lets the curtain drop back in front of the window and surveys the empty room for any stray items they might’ve missed. He runs his gaze over the bed then along the end tables and the small couch. These rooms are getting smaller and smaller as they get further away from Central and he wonders when he’ll be relegated to sleeping on the floor. Falman’s a nice guy and all, but that’s one line he won’t be crossing. It’s just too weird.

Ed checks the bathroom to make sure nothing’s left behind then looks under the couch and bed one last time. He’s stalling, but he needs one more moment to himself. Spending all day everyday with Falman has been exhausting in more ways than one. Initially it was all about answering questions he’d rather not answer about Roy and himself. It’s not that they were all that personal, he’s just not used to discussing when he wants the bathroom in the morning or what he and Roy would usually order for breakfast. He hasn’t shared space with anyone but Roy for a long time and bit by bit it’s driving him mad.

Ed runs his hand over his face then walks over to the trunks by the door to ensure they’re fastened tightly and locked. They’ll be picked up soon to be loaded with the rest of their cargo once he leaves the room, which he should be doing soon. But the idea of being crammed in that car all day has him more than a little antsy. He’s never liked car travel as it is, but with the way things have been getting more and more awkward lately….

He shakes his head and heads over to the lumpy couch to collect his hat. He tucks it under his arm and sighs as he squeezes the brim. He hasn’t mentioned his discomfort to anyone else because it’s something he needs to find a way to get over. Falman’s been doing a great job of standing in for Mustang and initially it was fascinating to watch. But lately what was intriguing and almost fun has become more and more distracting. It’s one thing for Falman to deceive the masses into thinking he’s Roy. But when Ed catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye or hears him say something just the right way and for just a split second believes…it’s too much.

Ed scans the room one last time and when he sees nothing amiss he opens the door. He steps into the hall and stops short when he’s instantly met by Markus. Ed closes the door quickly out of habit and does Markus seem like he’s trying to peek inside? He shouldn’t even be on this floor. No one should with the exception of Armstrong, Hawkeye, Joga and Cintai. Was Markus trying to see more than he should? Ed narrows his eyes slightly because he hates this stupid deceit, especially with his own men whom he deliberately hasn’t had much interaction with. It makes him feel less like a bastard that way.

He frowns and scrubs his hand over his face. “Hey, Markus, what’s up? Didn’t I tell you all you could give your reports to Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye downstairs?” 

“Yes, sir. You did.” 

There’s an undertone of annoyance to his words and Ed can guess why. He never liked giving his reports to anyone other than Mustang when he was in Markus’ shoes. He’d like to think that’s all this is about, but he’s got a bad feeling it’s more. He takes a deep breath to try and stomp down the irritation he feels that has more to do with his own lies than anything Markus has done.

“I wanted to let you know the weather’s taken a turn.” Ed arches an eyebrow because if that’s his cover story it’s a lame one. The rain’s been pounding the building since a little after 2 a.m. He knows because unfortunately he was awake. Markus lifts his arm and that’s when the scent of coffee hits his senses. “I also wanted to bring you this. I know how much you hate rainy weather.”

It’s official. Now he feels like even more of an ass.

Ed accepts the tall, steaming cup and takes a long drink. It’s surprisingly delicious and he only now realizes it’s one of the special blends he’s made for his men in the past. Markus or one of the others must’ve still had some and made this up especially for him. He’s always tried to complain less about his personal discomforts with his subordinates, but they know him too well not to see the effects rain and other drastic weather changes have on his automail ports. 

“Thank you, Markus. This was very considerate.”

Ed sees the faint smile playing at the corner of Markus’ lips widen fractionally at his words, but then he’s distracted by the sounds of rain pounding harder on the roof. He swears under his breath. They were supposed to have clear weather at least until they reached the mountain passes. Apparently they’d lucked out the last couple days. If only it’d held. Ed scowls at the window down the hall that’s being pelted with hard rain and wishes there was something they could do, but even nonalchemists know better than to mess with Mother Nature. 

“I figured you could use a pick me up before hearing the rest of the news.” Ed tilts his head as he starts down the hall, Markus in step beside him. “Half the men have already stowed their possessions, but with the rain it’s taking longer to get the tents put up and have everyone accounted for. It’ll probably take another hour or two before we can head out.”

Ed shakes his head and pauses to look out the window before turning for the stairs. He’s never been a part of such a large troop movement before and the logistics have been staggering. Their large numbers place a strain on anywhere they stop for the night, but there’s not much that can be done about it. Hawkeye sent notices ahead to the towns they’d planned on staying in but it’s still a nightmare.

He peers through the rain sheeting against the glass and can barely make out a small group packing one of the supply trucks that carry the tents. They’ve been rotating which units get to spend the night in real beds and hotels because nowhere they’ve stopped has had enough accommodations for everyone. It’s not the most ideal situation but at least no one is being forced to sleep outside and in trucks every night. Hopefully the ground was high enough last night to keep the “tent city” from being flooded. 

“Maybe you should’ve brought me something a little stronger than coffee.” He’s only half serious as he watches the soldiers struggle against the mud and the weight of several rolled up tents until he can’t see through the downpour anymore.

“I considered it.” Ed glances back over his shoulder to see Markus with a serious look on his face. “But then I was afraid of what the Lieutenant Colonel might do if you had whiskey on your breath.” A grin breaks out across Markus’ face and Ed mirrors it. “Either that or run the risk of you making the Fuhrer jealous.”

Ed laughs and shoves lightly at Markus’ shoulder as they make their way down the stairs. He’s not wrong about either assumption and for a brief moment things feel almost normal. He missed this time with his men, missed the camaraderie. He snorts softly and speaks without thinking. “You’re right about one thing, never get between Mustang and his whiskey.”

It should’ve been light hearted banter but the instant he speaks the words they turn bitter on his tongue. His smile fades, and the slight tension that’s been growing between him and his men returns. He’d like to say something to break it, but it would probably have to be a lie and he’s already told enough of those lately. This is why he’s made a deliberate effort to spend all his time glued to Falman’s side, even though that’s becoming its own type of torture. He takes a deep breath and as they reach the bottom of the stairs he asks, “So, how’s everyone else?”

“They’re good.” Markus hesitates and Ed wonders what else he was going to say. He’d like to ask, but considering it would probably be about something he couldn’t talk about it’s better if doesn’t. He catches sight of Armstrong and Hawkeye coming his way and neither looks very happy. Did something happen with Falman? Why aren’t they with him? Hawkeye has a pinched look around her eyes and Armstrong seems grim even for him. Has someone found them out?

“Markus, why don’t you go check on the men? See how they’re coming along and lend a hand to get us out of here before the rain messes up our day even more.” Ed keeps his eyes on Hawkeye and Armstrong but he doesn’t miss how Markus stiffens at the order that’s obviously just to get rid of him. In the past he wouldn’t have sent him away this hastily and Markus knows it. 

Ed glances over to see Markus’ face is carefully schooled blank as he salutes him with a quiet “sir.” He turns on his heel to head out into the downpour and Ed stares after him a moment with a scowl on his face. He hates this. He really, really hates this.

“Colonel Elric, sir.” 

Ed’s pulled from his thoughts by Armstrong’s voice and he suddenly remembers why he was worried. He glances around and when he still sees no sign of Falman he lowers his voice and locks his eyes on Hawkeye and Armstrong. “What happened? Where’s…Mustang?” He nearly trips over the name and he’s glad there’s no one else to hear him. “What’s going on?”

Hawkeye takes a half step back and Ed reads confusion on her face. Why’s she looking at him like that? He hears a noise behind him and he whips his head around to see the door to the outside swing open and a miserable looking soldier come in. He asks for several more pots of hot coffee to be brewed and Ed grits his teeth as he waits for him to leave. He should be out there surveying the situation for himself but he needs to know what’s happened first. The soldier makes his way back into the rain with two thermoses of coffee and Ed nearly jumps through the roof when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Edward, you should worry less. We have this under control. Whatever happens we will deal with it and come out better on the other side.” He gazes at Armstrong a long moment then nods. He has to believe that for now. “I will go see what I can do to help speed up our departure.” Armstrong nods to Hawkeye then crosses the room and disappears into the downpour. Ed stares after him for a moment but as the door swings shut again he realizes he never got an answer to his questions. 

“Hawkeye….”

“Joga and Cintai escorted Mustang to the car a little while ago. He’ll be there waiting for us when it’s time to depart.” Ed turns to look at her and sees her face’s still a mask of seriousness. Whatever Armstrong seems to think is going to be ok she doesn’t agree with. It’s obviously not about Falman since they were able to get him to the car with little fuss. He doesn’t envy him sitting in there all morning but it’s probably the most secure place he can be right now.

“But there’s something else?” His mind spins through the possibilities. They’re obviously slowed down by the rain but there’s not much they can do about it. Last night the town seemed more than hospitable to the soldiers patronizing the eating establishments. This close to Central they’re still a welcome sight. They’ve brought plenty of meal rations for the entire convoy when that isn’t the case, but this place seemed more than capable of handling the extra bodies and extra revenue they brought. Did there end up being a problem anyway?

“We’ve received news from the next town over. It seems the rain has caused a large rise in the water levels of the Jireh River. There’s concern over the bridge washing out.” The tension etched in the lines of her face tells him this isn’t just an idle concern. Armstrong was probably more optimistic since they might be able to use alchemy to support the bridge or because he’s always seeing the shiny side of life. Alchemy could work…unless the water’s too high and rapid to make a stable bridge. Hawkeye must realize that too.

“How much time do we have?” Ed runs his hand over his face and starts running through all the bridge architecture he knows, which isn’t too extensive. If they have to build one, he hopes he can manage something strong enough for trucks carrying all the heavy munitions….

“The consensus seems to be we need to be rolling in an hour, but even that’s no guarantee.” She pauses to take a breath before continuing and her serious brown eyes lock with Ed’s. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the assumption is that there are more than two alchemists traveling with us.”

Ed nods and his face turns as grim as Hawkeye’s. Roy’s obviously known as the Flame Alchemist and there was a time he was considered less than useless in the rain. But in the last decade he’s proven time and time again he’s anything but helpless. Under normal circumstances like this people would be clamoring to see the Fullmetal Alchemist in action, but not when witnessing Flame is an option. 

“Have Falman come up with a list of the best possible options we have for bridges, if we need it. As much detail as he can provide. I have no doubt he’d be our best resource.” Hawkeye nods in agreement. Ed hopes it doesn’t come down to that, but if anyone would have a catalogue of architecture in their head it would be Falman. He seems to know a little about everything. “I’ll see if I can help Armstrong speed things up.”

Ed puts on his hat then tugs it down low over his eyes. He hands the rest of his hardly touched coffee to Hawkeye and gives her a quick nod before turning for the door Armstrong and the other soldier passed through earlier. He stalks outside and is immediately buffeted by a blast of wind and rain that blinds him instantly. He swipes at his eyes and steps off the slightly raised concrete step only to nearly lose his footing in the mud. His hand barely catches the side of the building and he squints against the rain stinging his cheeks. The ground was bone dry yesterday when they stopped. Talk about a swing in the weather patterns. He doesn’t want to imagine what it must’ve been like for those stuck in the tents.

Ed curses his own selfishness. He should’ve been out here making sure they weren’t drowned in their sleep instead of grousing over the uncomfortable couch and the thunder keeping him awake. Rank and privilege are making him soft and he needs to do something about that. Now. He can hear Armstrong from somewhere bellowing over the wind, far too cheerful for a task like this, but he’s helping and that’s exactly what Ed needs to be doing. 

He makes his way along the side of the building and he’s pleased to see the area in front and on the west side of the inn has been cleared of tents. The area belonged to mostly experienced men that were chosen to be on hand in case of any type of attack. It seems they were able to get things sorted out in good time despite the rain and the muck. Hopefully many of these soldiers are helping with the less experienced platoons out in the field behind the inn.

Ed makes his way to the forming convoy at the front of the inn. It’s easy to pick out the car he, Falman, Armstrong and Hawkeye usually ride in even in the rain. The tiny Amestrian flags flapping in the wind from the corners of the hood might as well be bull’s-eyes painted on the car, but that was the point of this whole procession. Joga and Cintai are guarding either side of the car, collars turned up against the rain, which must mean Falman is already inside. Good. One less thing to worry about.

He glances past the series of cars identical to the one Falman’s in minus the tiny flags. If Ed had his way, they would all be marked the same to make it a little less obvious which one the Fuhrer is in, but that’s not protocol. Were Roy actually here he’d probably change it, but without him they endeavored to keep everything the same, no matter how dangerous it is. No point in making people ask more questions than necessary. Hopefully they won’t end up regretting it. 

Ed squints against the rain to peer at the sleek outlines of the scout car. He doesn’t see anyone milling around it so they must be ready to go. The next vehicle is a large transport truck with canvas covering the truck bed followed by several more behind it. These trucks carry soldiers, as well as some of the munitions, and are the front part of the convoy. The passenger cars are sandwiched in the middle followed by the rest of the transport trucks of soldiers and supplies. Ed spots the corner of one of the tarps covering a truck working its way free in the wind and he jogs over to it, his feet squishing in the standing puddles.

He pulls one of the straps used for closing up the back of the truck down and looks over the fastenings. Two of the rings are broken which explains the loose straps. He claps his hands together and brings them to the rings along the back of the truck bed, reforming them as part of the frame itself. Those should hold no matter how bad the wind gets. He tugs the two loose straps down and rehooks them securely. Then he looks for some help.

“Hey, over here.” Ed waves to a young soldier who trots over and wipes wet hair out of her eyes. “See these rings?” Ed points to the ones he fixed as well as the other unbroken ones as he shouts over the wind. “I need you to check the rings on the other trucks, see if any are weakening and need to be reinforced. Okay?” The solder nods eagerly and Ed’s fairly certain he’s seen her before. “Your name’s Sanchez, right? Part of Peyton’s unit?”

“Yes, sir, Colonel, sir! This is my first official deployment.” Her eyes light up despite the miserable conditions around them and Ed’s certain it’s because he knew her name. He never realized how such a small thing could make such a difference until Roy drilled it into his head. He’s nowhere near as good as Roy when it comes to names, but he’s trying. 

“Good. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” The wind picks up and he has to reach up to keep his hat from flying off his head. “Report your findings to me or Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye.” She nods, pulls her collar up and snaps a quick salute before running off to check the next truck. Ed smiles at her eagerness then turns to see if he can find somewhere else he can help.

He scans down past the row of passenger cars to what will be the tail end of the convoy. It took some doing but they did manage to get most of the vehicles parked in close around the inn without blocking their own route out if things went bad. They were arranged in neat staggered rows so if anything happened on either side the other vehicles could pull around to help defend or attack. Now it’s a matter of pulling out each truck from the rows and getting them in line to reform the convoy. It looks like about two thirds of the trucks are ready to go. Maybe they can get out of here in time.

Ed weaves his way through the quickly disassembling rows of parked trucks and spots a young soldier struggling to fasten the straps on a rolled up tent. The wind’s whipping the canvas or the strap out of his hands every time he tries to get a hold of them. Ed hurries over and squats down beside him to help, ignoring the slick mud that clings to his boots and pants. He grabs the flapping edge of the tent and pulls it down into position so the young man can fasten the buckle. Unfortunately he doesn’t remember this soldier’s name so he just gives him a nod of approval when he shouts what Ed’s pretty sure are his thanks. 

The wind’s picking up even more and Ed helps the young man get his rolled tent up and into one of the trucks. He receives a wave of thanks from the warrant officer inside loading the truck and he returns it with a nod. This is where he should be. This is where Mustang would be too despite what everyone would say about it. They’d both be out here in the mud and the muck helping their men get their gear packed and ready to go. That’s how it always was before politics spun everything out of control.

Ed takes a step back when the truck he’s standing near rolls forward to take its place in line. It kicks up a little mud and he reaches up to wipe it off his cheek with his sleeve. It’s messy, but he does feel more at home out here than making nice with innkeepers and barkeeps who want nothing more than a glimpse of the illustrious Flame Alchemist and Fuhrer. It’s all about schmoozing people and that’s always been Roy’s strength, not his. That bastard really is going to owe him once this is over.

The truck rolls forward a bit more and Ed spots another soldier fighting with an unruly tent. He jogs over to the edge of the field they were camped in and kneels down in the mud to help. The tent gear’s tangled up and the wind’s plastering the unrolled canvas against a tree. It’s too much for one person to get a handle on and Ed moves around to get the edge of the tent. He pulls at a strap that’s coiled around a tiny branch and grunts when it unexpectedly snaps. The flying edge of the canvas stings his cheek and he curses under his breath, but they do get the tent under control. Ed pulls back once the solder has it fastened then claps him on the shoulder as he stands and scans the area again.

He hears Armstrong’s boisterous voice carrying in the wind again and he wonders what issue has him so caught up. He turns to try and find him and notices the rain’s letting up slightly. That’s definitely a good sign. The wind picks up again and he barely manages to keep his hat from flying off his head. Hopefully they’ll be able to outrun this storm because he can’t imagine anyone trying to sleep in a tent with this weather. He starts off in the direction he thinks he last heard Armstrong when what sounds like Markus’ voice carries over the wind. He hesitates for only a moment then heads for it. 

Even with the tension that’s been building between them he still misses his unit. He misses the simplicity of the small, tight knit group and of missions that allowed him to go out and work with his hands and actions instead of false words and smiles. He’s never been a people person and his men don’t expect him to be. They started out together in the field by having each other’s back and that’s why these lies are so difficult. You can’t lie to someone when your lives are on the line.

Ed slips around the front of a truck and finally spots Markus and a small group of soldiers trying to lift a tree out of the way. He scans the scene and it’s obvious the rain’s making this much more difficult than it should be. Markus is shouting, but there’s no concerted effort because they can’t hear him over the wind. He takes a step closer and his feet nearly go out from under him from the mud. That rules out his usual alchemy. The ground’s treacherous enough without alchemy fucking it up more.

He steps into place beside the last man pushing against the fallen tree. He taps him on the shoulder and gestures for him to do the same to the one next to him. After a moment they all turn their attention toward him and stop straining with the log individually. Once he’s sure he has all their attention he locks his eyes with Markus who’s on the other end of the fallen tree. He holds up his hand, pausing for them all to take notice and makes an exaggerated motion with his hand as he waves it and counts on his fingers. One. Two. Three! 

They push together and he feels the tree rock forward. He wedges his automail foot under it without thought as they strain to roll it more and he grimaces when it settles back into place. At least it’s not painful. He feels himself sink lower into the mud and he scowls. He could probably blow the tree to smithereens with his alchemy but as satisfying as it would be it’s not the right option. There are too many people around that could be injured by the splintery shrapnel.

He looks to his right when there’s a tap on his shoulder and he can read the concern in Markus’ eyes. He shrugs and points at the tree again. He’ll be fine as soon as they get the tree moving. Markus does the count down this time and as they all push again something seems to give. The tree rolls over and they keep it going, shoving and rolling, until it splashes down into a slight hollow at the edge of the road. They’re all splattered with mud but at least they get a feeling of accomplishment to go with it. The waiting truck slowly pulls past them and thankfully doesn’t throw too much more mud on them.

Ed glances around at the bedraggled soldiers and hopes they’ve already stowed their packs. He’d hate for them to have to get everything else they own all filthy. He waves to get everyone’s attention then shouts over the wind as he points back to the inn. “Go inside. There’s hot coffee waiting.” He pantomimes drinking from a cup and everyone in the group nods eagerly and turns for the inn. Yes, they’re in a rush against the clock, but none of these men look like they’ve had a break all morning. They won’t be any good if they’re exhausted and once inside they can bring out thermoses of coffee for others.

Ed turns around to see what he can do next and he’s surprised to find Markus still at his side and wearing a slight smile. He’s not sure what it means, but he doubts he’d even hear the answer if he asked. It’s a nice, unstrained gesture and he savors the normalcy of it as he makes his way down the road, Markus falling into step beside him. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and he glances over to see Markus smiling again. Ed shakes his head and bumps Markus’ shoulder with his own. He really has missed this easy camaraderie. It’s so comfortable it’s almost enough to make him forget about the rain and the constant stress of lying until he hears a pair of raised voices.

Ed stops and looks around. He’d know those voices anywhere even through the whistling wind. Markus taps his arm then points across the muddy field and Ed sucks in a breath when he sees Amos and Cy struggling with some more downed trees. Unlike the last tree, these aren’t harmlessly blocking the road. This pair came down right in the middle of an area filled with tents. He hopes no one was inside as he breaks into a careful jog over the soggy ground, Markus right by his side. He can’t tell anything yet because if there were blood, it’s long been mixed into the dirt and deluge.

As they reach them, Ed sees that Cy’s wedged between both downed trees struggling with something he can’t make out yet. Amos is bracing the space to make sure neither tree rolls inward which leaves him unable to do much else. Amos’ face is grim under the red hair plastered to his face and it leaves Ed wondering just how many are buried beneath the tree trunks. There are a few other soldiers around but they don’t seem to have noticed this situation on the edge of the perimeter as they’re busy trying to salvage the rest of the tents crushed by a few other downed trees.

Markus leaps into action quickly, sliding in between the trees with Amos to try and help widen the gap if he can. Ed gets a little closer and finally sees that Cy’s trying to keep an older solider conscious whose leg’s caught under one of the large trunks. It’s obvious why they haven’t gotten more help because neither was in a position to leave without running the risk of endangering the man further. In all honesty he and Markus were probably lucky to hear them over the wind.

Ed quickly surveys the situation with an alchemist’s eye and immediately knows manipulating the ground still isn’t an option. He’d run the risk of shifting the trees in a way that could injure the soldier more. The wind’s still blowing violently but he really only sees one option as he claps his hands together and hopes this doesn’t backfire on them all.

Ed hops into the small space between the trees and presses his hands to the one pinning the veteran soldier. He lets loose the alchemic energy crackling in his hands and the tree shifts and grows, stretching upwards to form a solid wall of wood that arches over their heads until it canopies them. He makes sure to quickly anchor it to the other fallen tree because the wind’s already trying to tear it apart over their heads. The bottom of the wall leaves a space about a foot over the wounded soldier’s leg and Cy shoots Ed a tight smile as he immediately leans down to pull the man out of harm’s way. His normally light golden skin looks surprisingly pale and Ed worries he’s been out in the wet and cold too long. His home province in Xing never prepared him for Amestris' rapid weather shifts. Amos hurries over to help him and they carry the soldier out of the tight space.

They disappear out into the rain and Ed glances around the makeshift shelter. Mud squelches underfoot as he looks for traces of anyone else trapped but thankfully it’s only the mess of squished tents and leaves. It’s oddly quiet within the space he’s carved out and he can feel Markus’ eyes on him. He wipes some of the rain and mud off his face before he turns to face him. “Eventful day, huh?”

Markus smiles and shakes his head. “It’s good to have you back out here, sir.” He looks up at the canopy over their heads. “Maybe we should consider bringing this with us.”

Ed leans a hand against the wooden wall and it shudders in the wind. “Not sure where we’d stow it. I should probably do something with it to get it out of the way, though.” He presses his hands together and then to the impromptu shelter and it starts dropping into neat bundles of firewood. Hopefully the locals will find it useful. Once it’s all transmuted and they’re once again standing in rain he turns to Markus and nods his head in the direction of the end of the convoy. They’ve come this far they might as well see to it there’s no other issues that need to be dealt with.

It’s at the tail end of the convoy Ed finally discovers what Armstrong’s been shouting about. Deep muddy ruts in the ground tell the story of multiple trucks that have had to be pushed or pulled out of the muck. They’re down to the last one and Ed finds Armstrong, Abbi and a few other soldiers attempting to shove the transport truck out of a small ditch. They aren’t helped much by the slippery footing or the torrent of water rushing through the ditch behind them. Abbi flits about attempting to organize the soldiers around Armstrong but anything it seems to be working against him.

Ed steps forward, his mind already spinning as he tries to figure out a way to help the truck gain traction, but he’s brought up short by Markus’ arm across his chest. He looks over at him in confusion but then his eyes widen in understanding as Armstrong bellows once more. The strain’s clearly heard in his cry as he shoves again and this time finally manages to force the truck out of the ditch. It seems Armstrong’s indomitable strength can’t be overcome after all. 

Armstrong grins, obviously pleased with himself, and watches the men scurry to clear the mud off the doors to begin loading their packs. Ed shakes his head when he realizes Armstrong’s once again shirtless but in this weather it hardly matters. As long he gets some damn clothes on before Ed’s stuck in the car with him he doesn’t care. He takes a step back as the last of the men climb aboard and the truck starts to roll forward. He watches it pull away when Abbi, her dark, sodden chin length hair whipping around in the wind, suddenly appears silently in front of him and salutes. Ed nods at her and smiles, “Making yourself useful I see.”

His words are returned with an impish grin and a duck of her head. “As are you, sir.” She looks around them. “Right mess this is turning out to be.”

Ed sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, you can say that.” Ed glances up at the hazy sky and swears he sees a hint of sunlight peeking through the clouds as the rain begins to slack off. “With the last of this cleared up though, we should be able to head out shortly.”

“Politics don’t suit you very well.” Abbi’s words startle him initially because of their unexpected nature, but he should’ve known better. She’s always been one to speak her mind and he’s always appreciated a subordinate that wasn’t constantly concerned with ass kissing. He takes one more look at her matter of fact expression, nearly eye to eye with him, and it evokes a genuine, full body laugh out of him.

He shakes his head as he gets carried away in the laughter because this is something he hasn’t felt like doing since they all returned from Aerugo. It’s freeing in a way that takes him off guard and for several moments he can’t stop. When he finally does pull himself together he has to wipe at his eyes. There’s a wide grin on his face and he notices that Markus looks entirely too amused.

“They really don’t, sir,” Abbi tells him resolutely and Ed smiles more. He’s missed this. He’s missed the easiness he feels when he’s with his own unit and everything they’ve come to mean to him. He shakes his head again and shrugs. He doesn’t even mind the fact he’s soaked and covered in mud, if he could only hold onto this moment longer. But there’s still so much more to do and a bridge that hopefully will only need reinforcing.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the inn. I know there’s coffee waiting for us there and I want to see that thermoses are run to all the cars.” They fall into step beside him as he turns back. On the walk he watches the vehicles turning one by one into formation starting with the nearest transport vehicle and then slowly working up along the line. They pull up slightly then turn to the left, ready to depart when the car in front of them leaves. He nods to the drivers as they pass by and thankfully they don’t run into anymore crises large or small.

Once they reach the inn and head inside Ed immediately claps his hands together and uses alchemy to dry his clothes and then Markus and Abbi’s. It’s something that’s become instinctual to him over the years and he relishes the feel of dry, if not clean, clothes. He glances out toward the convoy and has no doubt that he’s not the only one who enjoys not being soaked to the bone. Maybe he could take the time to—

“Don’t even think about it, sir. You need your energy.” 

Ed glances over to Markus and nods reluctantly. It would take too long to dry out everyone in the convoy and it would definitely take a huge toll on him. Still it would’ve been nice. He sighs and rubs at his eyes. He really should get back to the car to check in with Falman and Hawkeye. It seems like things are about to be ready to go and he’d like to know if Hawkeye’s heard anything else about the bridge. He then turns his gaze to Abbi who immediately snaps to attention. 

“Abbi, I’d like to see that thermoses of hot coffee are distributed to each of the cars as long as we have the time—“

“Markus and I will take care of it, sir.” She nudges Markus lightly in the arm. “Even if we have to deliver them all ourselves.”

Ed smiles at her eagerness then nods to each of them. “Very good. I’ll check in with you later today,” and with that Ed turns and heads back outside. 

He sees the rain has finally stopped the moment he steps out and he breathes a breath that’s far from relieved. Yes, the weather has taken a good turn, but he can’t stop thinking about the fact that later on today he’ll have to go back to lying to some of his most trusted friends. Markus, Abbi, Cy and Amos aren’t just subordinates to him. They haven’t been for a long time. He hates that he has to treat them as less than they are.

He finally reaches the “Fuhrer’s” car and he pauses for a moment. It was nice to get away from the deceit and political wrangling for a little while and to use his hands and his alchemy to do something productive. If only the rest of the trip could be so easy. He snorts to himself as the car door opens under his hand. Who knew a torrential downpour would be the easy part of the trip for him.

“Colonel Elric.”

Ed turns toward the voice as someone from inside the car pushes the door open for him to climb in. Ed’s eyes widen when he sees Markus right behind him and he quickly steps in front of the open door. Fear of discovery shoots through him like the lightning cutting through the sky last night and he snaps shortly. “Markus, what’re you doing?”

Markus stops short, a frown marring his face as he reaches out and offers Ed a large thermos. “Nothing, sir. I just thought the Fuhrer’s car could use some coffee as well.” 

The cool reserved tone grates at Ed because it’s so different from everything in the past hour. For a little while he had a brief respite from playing this role and his mind screams at him to explain and tell the truth. But he can’t so he accepts the thermos and keeps his face impassive as he nods.

“You should go see to your unit, Lieutenant. We’re ready to leave.” Markus snaps him a precision perfect salute then turns to leave. Ed watches him until he’s out of sight then sags against the car, closing his eyes briefly. He hates this so damn much. He sucks in a slow breath then slides into the car instantly more exhausted than he’s felt in days. 

Ed rubs at his eyes and looks across the car to see Mustang silhouetted against the far window and his breath catches in his throat. There’s so damn much he wants to tell him, so damn much he needs to say, but as he takes a breath to speak it suddenly slams home that it’s not Mustang. It’s Falman and as he turns his head to look at him with eyes and a face that are all wrong Ed grits his teeth and slams the door shut much harder than necessary. They need to get to the West. The sooner, the fucking better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> As this was written for fmabigbang, we had the pleasure of working with the wonderful **[Bay](http://bay115.livejournal.com/)**  
>  who created the above banner illustrating a moment in this chapter. To see her entire art post and to leave her comments please go [here](http://bay115.livejournal.com/81305.html). Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

“I still don’t like this.”

“You think I do?” Roy snaps back and scowls as he leans through the window to steer the car he and Havoc are pushing down the tiny dirt road. A farmer about a mile back told them there was someone off the main road who was “handy with mechanical things,” but one look at Jean’s uniform and all the help he might’ve offered vanished in an instant. Roy considered telling him to change into civilian clothes for a while considering the sentiment they’ve run into as they went further and further West hasn’t been favorable. But at the same time, he’s certain the uniform has offered them some protection and he’s wary to discount that altogether.

“What I mean is more people are going to see us this way.” Roy glances back to see Havoc wipe at his brow before leaning more into the car. He’s thrown his uniform jacket over the trunk lid and rolled up his sleeves but it’s obvious he’s as hot and tired as Roy is. Ed’s modifications may have made them safer but they’ve made pushing the car a lot worse.

“You think I don’t know that?” Roy leans his shoulder more into the door as he attempts to get the heap rolling a little faster. It’s no use though. They’re lucky to keep the thing creeping along. Roy squints against the sun’s glare. There might be something glinting in the harsh sunlight over the next hill, but he can’t be sure. If it’s not, he’s not sure how much further they’ll make it. He shakes his head in frustration. “I thought you said it was the distributor cap. We fixed that already!”

“It was, I mean….” Havoc grunts as they both throw themselves even more against the car to get it moving up the hill. It would be easier if they were both behind it but then they’d probably just end up pushing it into a ditch. “The distributor cap _was_ a problem. Doesn’t mean it was the only one.” He grunts low again as their steps become more labored and they nearly reach the crest of the hill. “Not…my fault…you requisitioned…a lemon.”

“I’m not the one who picked it out!” Roy groans along with Havoc as they finally make the last few feet to the top of the hill and he lets out a relieved breath when he sees a small main street in the shallow valley below. It’s not much more than a few faded houses and shops with their last coat of paint several years ago. The spots of repair stand out clearly but at least the first one looks promising. It’s a tiny cottage that has what seems to be machine and car parts scattered around the yard. Sunlight shines off some piece of glass or metal and that must be what Roy saw before. That’s definitely where they need to go.

He hears rustling behind him and he looks back to see Havoc pausing to fish a cigarette out of his pocket. Roy narrows his eyes and nearly growls at him. “You _have_ to be kidding. Are you completely incapable of controlling yourself?”

Havoc arches an eyebrow at him as he brings the lit lighter to the tip of his cigarette. “What? We’re almost there.” Roy glares and considers snatching the offending vice right out of his mouth when he speaks again. “Come on. You’re just still mad because that old lady at the last inn thought you were my lover.”

Roy shoots Havoc a look as cold as ice that in the past would’ve had him looking away and mumbling an apology. But it’s been a long trip and things have gotten much too familiar between them. Instead of looking away or even looking chagrined Havoc shrugs and gives him an amused smile.

“Say what you like, but I know what that look she gave me meant when she saw you sneaking into the room.”

Roy rolls his eyes in a move reminiscent of Ed at his surliest and turns back toward the small village. He’s had about enough of this “camaraderie.” He hasn’t felt this out of sorts in years and he’s ready to get back to the familiar and dispense with these games. He shakes his head and snaps shortly without looking back. “Do you think we can do this already? I would like to make it to the front before the war is completely over.”

It’s a snide comment, no doubt, but it seems to have the desired effect as Havoc throws away his cigarette and puts his shoulder to the car again. This time it’s much easier with the downward slope helping just enough to keep them moving without losing control. Still, it’s hard, hot work and by the time they’re pushing the heavily reinforced car toward an open garage at the side of the house, they’re both sweating and out of breath.

“Maybe I should go talk to them, Havoc,” Roy says as he finally straightens up from pushing the car. He arches his back and bites back a low groan as he feels muscles unbend from positions they’d been in too long. The chances of him being recognized out here looking like this are more remote and if the mechanic’s anything like the farmer they ran across it would probably be best for the one in military dress not to do the bargaining.

“It’s John, remember?”

Roy looks back over his shoulder and deliberately rolls his eyes at him again. Havoc chuckles and Roy shakes his head. He really has picked up too many of Ed’s bad habits, but in this instance it feels appropriate even if Havoc’s probably right. They do need to use the aliases more, especially in a town like this. It wouldn’t be unheard of for someone to recognize Jean’s name as one of Roy’s men and start asking questions. He looks back at Havoc again to answer when an old man in stained overalls walks out of the garage toward them, wiping his hands on an oily rag.

“Looks like you boys are having some car trouble.” He runs his eyes over the car first, then Havoc, and finally locks them on Roy. The salt and pepper sprinkled hair reminds him of Grumman but there’s far less politics sunken into his face. He arches an eyebrow at him and there’s no missing the bitter tone to his voice. “You military?”

Roy knows he only has an instant to pull this off and he takes a breath and steps forward at the same time holding out his hand in a friendly gesture. “The name’s Max Reynolds, but people just call me Rey. The one in the military dog uniform is my cousin John Houston.” The old man looks at him skeptically, keen deep blue eyes narrowed, then cautiously reaches out and shakes his hand. “John and I were going to visit some friends out west when our car broke down. Do you think you can help us?”

Roy does his best to keep his tone even and friendly. He has no intention of attempting to pass himself off as a local, but if he can manage to not sound like he’s from Central City it’d probably help matters. He tries to keep his expression open and honest looking as the man squints and leans forward slightly to scrutinize him. Wrinkles line his face, gathered generously in the laugh lines, indicating the man is no stranger to joy but he’s also far from a fool. Roy holds his breath then slowly lets it out when the man finally smiles and releases his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Rey.” He keeps his eyes focused on Roy as if Havoc weren’t even there as he continues. “Name’s Dale Roberts, but folks ‘round these parts just call me ol’ Red.” He turns his attention to the car, running his gaze over it and Roy’s glad they took the time to hide some of their supplies in the woods where they first broke down. He really wouldn’t want this man snooping around and getting a better idea of who they are. “So, you have any idea what’s wrong with her?”

This is the part Roy was worried about and he’s hoping he’s learned enough from Havoc to pull it off. “Well, i-she’s been misfiring for a while. We replaced the distributor cap awhile back but now it’s happening again.” Red walks around the car, tracing a light hand over the roof and along windowsills while Roy talks and he gets the uneasy feeling the man is seeing much more than they’d like. “I think it could be the plugs, maybe…and unless you can help us we’re pretty much stuck here.”

Red nods as he knocks his knuckles against the side of the passenger door. Roy clenches his jaw at how solid it sounds. “So you said you were headed west, huh? Not a very bright idea these days.” He raises his eyes to look at Roy skeptically again. Something in his gaze tells Roy they’re not fooling him. “That why you boys have got her outfitted like a tank?”

Roy swallows hard and takes a deep breath. If he tries to play games, this man’s going to see straight through him. He needs to give him something to make him feel like he’s won by discovering something they didn’t want him to know. It’s politics, same as he’s been dealing with in Central but on a whole different scale. Roy nods and steps forward, resting his hand on the roof of the car as he looks across it to meet Red’s eyes. He ignores the heat radiating from the metal and lowers his voice to a more conspiratorial tone. He leans toward Red, and hopes he can lie as well as he’s seen Ed do dozens of times.

“You’re right, Red. It’s a stupid thing to do.” He shoots a sideward glance to Havoc then locks his eyes with Red again. “Truth is John isn’t actually on ‘leave’ from the military. There are some people we know who are in trouble near the border and we’re going to help, bright idea or not.”

Red holds his gaze with a long searching one and for a moment he’s certain they’re found out. This man isn’t going to be fooled by some silly story. He probably already knows who Roy is and he’s just letting him dig his own grave. But then Red’s expression changes, his eyes soften a little around the edges and his mouth forms a determined line. He glances over to acknowledge Havoc with a nod for the first time then looks back to Roy. “Deserter, huh? Well, let me see what I can find under the hood.”

Roy lets out the breath he was holding and nods quickly. He takes a step back, needing the space to breathe and as Red moves to the front of the car he tells him quickly, “We can pay you. Don’t worry about that.”

Red peeks around the raised hood and gives him a grin. “Oh I’m sure about that. Anyone who can reinforce a car like this can’t be that much on hard times.” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand and turns his attention back under the hood. “Why don’t you boys go down to Rosie’s and get you something to eat. Get out of my hair and let me do some work. I’ll send Jeffery after you when it’s ready.”

Roy glances over to Havoc who just shrugs at him. He seems to be as dumbfounded by the whole ordeal as Roy is. He glances back to the old man under the hood once more then shakes his head. They might as well do what they’re told. “Thanks again for your help,” Roy calls out but Red just mumbles under his breath and makes the same shooing motion with his hand. It’s obvious he doesn’t want an audience so Roy turns and heads in the direction of the eating establishment he mentioned.

Havoc quickly falls into step beside him and speaks in a hushed tone. “What was all that?” Havoc shrugs into his uniform coat, probably afraid if he’d left it with the car it might not be there when he got back. Roy doesn’t miss how Havoc’s head turns from side to side as they make their way down the street, probably trying to look out for unseen danger. His mind, however, is on something else.

“He needed to feel like he was part of something. Something anti-military. I told him what he wanted to hear.” Roy keeps walking but he doesn’t see what’s in front of him. Instead he sees the boy with the gun pointed against his head screaming about how Roy abandoned him and his family. It was a moment that shocked him to the core, no question, but to see entire villages with the same view is more than a little sobering.

He’s failed so many people.

“Chief, err, Rey, it looks like this is the place.”

Roy stops at Havoc’s words and to his right sees a small café with a faded, hand painted sign over the door proclaiming it to be “Rosie’s.” There can’t be more than a few tables inside and the entire place has a homey feel unlike any place in Central. A glance through the window shows obviously handmade decorations pinned to the wall and a bulletin board full of smiling pictures. It makes him feel out of touch yet welcome at the same time, but any feeling of hospitality fades as they pass through the door.

Lunchtime chatter goes quiet as Roy and Havoc cross the small café to take a seat by one of the large front windows. The movement of cracked leather on the seats sounds deafening as the friendly atmosphere turns tense and he Roy grits his teeth. Somehow he will find a way to rectify this. He’s been so blinded by the positive changes in Central he assumed much of it was also happening across the country. His work in Ishval made a huge difference in that region and the Eastern front’s the most stable border in the country right now. How could he get so out of touch with the West?”

“Can I get you something?” The older waitress, who very well might be Rosie herself, makes it clear she’s only addressing Roy as she keeps her body turned slightly away from Havoc. She taps the eraser end of a pencil against the notepad she has in her hands while the corner of her mouth turns down in a slight scowl. She doesn’t look very happy to see him either, but Roy attempts to flash his most welcoming smile. It doesn’t faze her much, but at least she’s not kicking them out.

“Yes, ma’am. We’d each like one of whatever your special of the day is along with a couple glasses of water.” She nods curtly then glances over at Havoc who’s nervously flipping a cigarette between his fingers. Maybe he should’ve had Jean change out of uniform, but he had no idea it would be _this_ bad.

“We don’t allow smoking in here,” she snaps and narrows her eyes. “Especially by dogs.”

“Yes’m,” Havoc replies and quickly slips the cigarette behind his ear. Roy doubts he actually would’ve lit it, but she made her point more than clear. Hopefully Red will have their car fixed soon and they can get out of here.

The waitress turns for the kitchen and Roy leans forward to speak softly to Jean. “I’m sorry. I had no idea—“

“It’s not your fault.” Havoc’s eyes lock with his and Roy knows he means a lot more with his words than just this lunch. He appreciates the sentiment, but he can’t believe it. Not now.

“Let’s not get into that right now.” Havoc scowls at him and starts to reach for the cigarette behind his ear but then stops halfway. He ends up picking up a spoon on the table instead and flips it between his fingers the way he would’ve done the cigarette.

“Maybe we should.”

Roy starts at his comment and wonders just when Havoc got so comfortable talking to his superior this way. Yes, they’ve served together a long time and been through an extraordinary amount of trials, but still. He never used to be quite this forward with his opinions. Roy smiles slightly and shakes his head. It must be spending so much time with Ed. That must be it.

“Ha-John, this is hardly the place—“

“It’s exactly the place, Rey.” Roy blinks at his forcefulness and the way “Rey” nearly sounded like “Roy” on his lips. He folds his hands on the table neatly in front of him and arches an eyebrow. Havoc’s eyes are hard and determined in a way he’s rarely seen them before and he can’t help but sit and listen. “This is why we’re here. This is what you came to see.” Havoc’s tone is hushed, just loud enough for the two of them to hear but it’s still firm and adamant. “You will make a difference, just like back East. But just like…-Ish-there, you need to see it face to face. Don’t beat yourself up over the way things are. Just do what you always do and make them right.”

Roy sits back, a little stunned at the way he lays it all out before him because the look in his eyes, the conviction in his voice, is staggering. One look at Havoc and he sees no doubt in him whatsoever. He’s always known his subordinates had faith in him, but to state so blatantly that he can fix even this. It’s beyond humbling.

But he’s right.

This is why they’re here and one way or another they will make a difference. But he won’t be doing it alone. Just like back in Ishval, he’ll be doing it with the best people in the world around him, the one sitting across the table being a key factor. He couldn’t have made the differences he did there alone. It took all of them. Just like this will. But for the first time since they began running into these prejudices and antimilitary sentiment, he actually believes they will turn this around.

“I won’t be doing this alone.” He’s about to say more when Rosie arrives back with their food. She sets a steaming bowl of soup and half a sandwich in front of Roy and one a little less hot looking in front of Havoc. Roy smiles his thanks and he’s grateful the temperature seems to be the only slight she made to Havoc’s meal.

Havoc shrugs at it and starts on the sandwich first, talking around it in his usual way. “You’re right. You won’t be. We’ll all—“

“You’re the Flame Alchemist, aren’t you?”

Roy freezes with a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips and his eyes widen. Have they really come all this way to be found out in a tiny out of the way place like this? How can he possibly explain and once people realize…what might they do to them both? He turns his head slowly to meet familiar looking golden eyes pinning him down with an intensity he’s rarely seen other than from one person. Roy blinks in surprise because were the hair blond instead of black he’d think he was looking at another determined young boy from what seems like a lifetime ago.

“I’m sorry, son, but I believe you have me mistaken for someone—”

“But I’m not! You are him. You’re just like Daddy said—”

“ETHAN!” A young brunette woman from across the small diner jumps from her chair and the toddler she was spoon feeding. She rushes over to the golden eyed boy and wraps an arm protectively around his chest and attempts to pull him back, but he fights her. “I told you to leave them alone. Stop with this nonsense right now.”

“Mama, no! I’m right! I know I’m right.” He struggles from his mother’s grip and points at Roy with an unwavering hand. “It’s him! Just like Daddy said!”

“Ethan Wayne Marks, it’s men like that who got your daddy killed. Now come over here like I said and finish your lu—”

“NO! Mama, listen. He’s going to fix it. Mamaaaaaaaaaaa.”

All eyes are on them now and Roy wants to do anything he can to get them off but he doesn’t know what. The boy’s still having a fit and Roy glances over to see Havoc quickly downing his soup as fast as he can. He probably has the right idea. They need to get out of here, but first…he needs answers.

The young mother finally gets the boy to stop screaming and he does turn from their table and toward his little sister who’s looking wide eyed and uncomprehending at the scene. She has her brother’s golden eyes and stretches imperious hands at her mother. Roy pulls out more than enough money to cover the check and leaves it on the table as Havoc reaches across to pack up Roy’s sandwich with what’s left of his own. He stands and as the mother begins to walk away he clears his throat and asks softly, “May I ask what happened to his father?”

She spins around quickly and locks a gaze filled with hate and barely suppressed rage at him. “Why don’t you ask your ‘friend’ there. It was people like him that got him killed.”

Roy starts at the venom in her voice and nods. He’d like to know the story and why the boy seems to recognize him but it’s probably best if they just leave. He gives her a genuine look of compassion and attempts to convey everything he can’t put into words with his eyes. “I’m sorry. You have my deepest sympathy for your loss.” He turns to leave but stops when she calls out softly to him.

“Wait. Do you really want to know?”

He turns back around as Havoc clears out of the table booth and takes a place behind him about a pace away. Roy nods to the young woman and he hopes she sees the sincerity in his eyes. He honestly wants to know what happened. He needs to know what could bring such hatred so he can try to go about fixing this. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”

She stares at him another long moment then finally nods. “Best you know the type of company you’re keeping.” She shoots a glare to Havoc then looks back to Roy again. “My husband was in the military, like your friend there. He followed after his father and uncle.” She glances back to her son who’s looking through some type of bag and sighs. “He served in the East for a little while. That’s when he began filling Ethan’s head with promises about that Flame Alchemist. How he could change everything and make things better.”

She whips her head back around to glare at Roy again. “Does this look better to you? This town’s nearly dried up and in another six months to a year, we’ll probably be the ones attacked.” She shakes her head then hangs it defeated as she mumbles, “Though I’ll probably have lost the house by then.”

Roy starts in surprise at her assessments and her words. It shouldn’t be that way. Not if he were a soldier. His family should be looked after. Roy shakes his head in frustration and sympathy. “Is that how he died? Fighting along the border? Shouldn’t you be receiving some help….” His words drift off as her look turns to one of sheer malice. Roy takes a step back and wishes he could take back his words that have obviously worsened her pain.

“Help? Is that what you think the military does?” She laughs bitterly and snorts. “Evan spent his whole life fighting for this country and do you know what it did for him?” She crosses her arms and leans back defensively. “Instead of coming home when he had some time off, do you know what he did? He tried to go help some old family friends near the border. That’s where he was killed. He was doing what the military should’ve been doing and do you know what they did about it? They cut off his pension because he was killed in a _nonmilitary approved operation_!”

She shakes her head again and takes a step back then points her finger at Havoc. “That’s the kind of people you’re associating with. Those are the ones who’re supposed to ‘help’ us.” She snarls angrily and levels her eyes on Roy again. “I think you should leave.”

Roy nods and quickly backs away without making eye contact with anyone else. Just their presence has obviously caused more than enough trouble. He follows Havoc outside then tells him under his breath. “Evan Marks. Son, Ethan Wayne Marks. When we get into contact with Fuery, make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Yes, sir. I will—”

Havoc cuts off when the young boy comes running out of the café and straight to Roy. He tugs on his sleeve and pushes something into his hand. Roy looks down in surprise into wide, determined eyes.

“I know it’s you and I know why you’re here. Daddy said you’d come. Please, make Mama smile again.” And with that he turns and runs back to the shouts of his mother calling for him in the doorway.

Roy looks back, stunned, as the door closes and stands there for a good minute before Havoc nudges him and they begin walking back to Red’s garage to check on the car. They make it about halfway before Roy looks down at the small object in his hand. It’s a tiny hand carved car someone spent a great deal of time working on. It’s obviously been well played with and Roy considers turning around to go return it when he happens to flip it over. He freezes in his tracks when he sees what’s carved underneath.

In the flat bottom of the car body is what looks like a tiny lizard beneath two very familiar interlocked triangles. There’s no question what it’s supposed to represent. It’s a rough approximation of his personal array obviously done by someone who doesn’t know alchemy but knew enough to not draw a circle to complete the array. It’s lacking detail and it’s inaccurate but now he knows how the boy recognized him.

The rough drawing mirrors the scars on the back of his hands.

Most people rarely notice the scars for what they are and only his inner circle knows he can still use them in a pinch to activate his alchemy. The scars aren’t the complete array, and he can’t use them to do the fine pinpoint alchemy he can with his gloves, but they’re more than enough to combine with his alkahestry arrays or to blow something up. The best thing about the scars is most have no idea they exist, but somehow that boy not only saw them for what they were, he recognized them. Roy shakes his head and looks back in the direction he came.

“Is something wrong, Chief?”

“No, no I don’t think so.” He shakes out of his remembered memories of another young boy with an exceptional mind and looks to Havoc. “Just make sure that family’s taken care of.” Havoc nods and Roy turns back toward Red’s garage. When this is over with, they need to look into ensuring this region gets rebuilt with plenty of education for the next generation. Ed’s been wanting to push an initiative to bring education and even alchemy to the masses without a firm commitment to the military. Hopefully when they get this turned around they can start making that a reality.

~*~*~*~

“What do you mean we don’t have a choice? The Fuhrer isn’t giving any audiences on this trip. We’ve made that perfectly clear a dozen times already!” Ed fists his hands and scowls. He doesn’t mean to yell at Hawkeye. He really doesn’t. They’ve all been under an insane amount of stress since this trip began and he can see his own exhaustion mirrored in her drawn face. They’re all wearing that look, tired and beaten down. After this, Roy can have all the politics to himself. He’s done.

Ed shakes his head and threads his fingers through his hair. How many pompous idiots have they had to avoid this trip? This is just one more in a long line of jackasses they don’t have time for. “We’ll just go another way. Fuck ‘em.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Edward.” Ed whips his head around and narrows his eyes at Falman siting in the armchair in the corner of the small inn’s room. He’s still in full uniform, black coat draped over his shoulders, and he’s sitting with his legs crossed in the dignified way Roy always does. His elbows rest on the arms of the chair so he can steeple his hands in front of his face and Ed swears his voice’s a little lower than usual. “The village town of Blum is situated directly at the entrance to the mountain pass. If we don’t go through the town, we don’t go through the pass.”

Ed clenches his jaw and squeezes his automail hand into a fist so tight the metal creaks. It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to storm over there and put his fist through Falman’s face. Yes, he’s trying to play his role and he’s doing it well. Too well. The longer he’s been at it the more he’s picked up Roy’s mannerisms and that’s wonderful, except when he picks up that condescending tone Ed rarely lets the real bastard get away with anymore.

“Fine.” Ed keeps his voice lowered but there’s no keeping the murderous look from his eyes. “How about we just parade you through the town square? I’m sure everyone would love to get a nice view of your pompous ass before blowing your fricken head o—”

“Edward—”

“DON’T CALL ME _EDWARD!_ You’re _not_ fucking Mustang! You’ll _never_ be fucking—“

“Ed stop.”

The voice is soft, but firm, just like the hand on his shoulder. How many times over the years has he watched her rein Roy in the same way? He turns his head to look over his shoulder and as he expected Hawkeye’s giving him that same resolute look he’s always known from her. The only difference now is he can see the frayed edges around her cool exterior. She’s still impeccably dressed but her uniform’s not as tightly pressed as it normally is and her hair’s not styled to perfection. She’s pretending to be as put together as she usually is, but she’s not. None of them are. They aren’t used to being cut completely adrift from their Fuhrer.

“Colonel, sir, I apologize if my actions were upsetting you. I was only trying to—”

Ed lifts his hand and waves in Falman’s direction to shut him up. He’s not ready to look at him yet but he doesn’t need his apology. He’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing. It’s not his fault it’s grating on Ed’s nerves like coarse grit sandpaper. He runs his hand over his face and he doesn’t miss Hawkeye’s sympathetic look. It’s strained, but it’s still there and he appreciates it. He nods in her direction then finally turns his body and attention back to Falman. 

“You were just following orders, Falman. Don’t apologize.” One look at him now and it’s hard to imagine how he could ever mistake him for Roy. Yes, he’s still wearing the full uniform, though the black coat has fallen away probably when he stood up. His hair’s still dyed and fixed in Roy’s customary style, but his body language is completely wrong. He looks chastised and meek in a way he doubts Roy’s ever been in his life and it makes the superficial similarities even stranger. They’re settled in for the night, no reason to keep this up right now. “Just, knock it off for a bit, will you?”

Falman nods immediately and starts unbuttoning his Fuhrer’s coat and Ed turns his attention to the others in the front room of the inn’s suite. Armstrong’s sitting on and taking up much of the small couch near the end table and Hawkeye has moved a few steps away but is still nearly right at his side. She’s been doing that a lot when they’ve been away from prying eyes and it took him nearly a week to figure out why. Then it hit him. She’s used to being Mustang’s right hand, and now that he’s not here she’s doing the same for him…and it’s a little weird. He doesn’t think Markus has ever needed to fill that role for him in quite that way, but their missions were always more about stealth and action over political intrigue.

Ed shakes off the strange feeling and runs his hand over his face. “Has anyone talked to Kain about this?” If anyone would know something about these rumors concerning Blum and this guy, Hollander or whatever his name is, it’d be Fuery. So far much of what he’s heard has been relayed secondhand from the last two towns they’ve passed through. He’d hoped it was just idle talk, but from the look on everyone’s faces it seems like it’s not.

“Yes, Colonel Elric.” Armstrong’s booming voice fills the room and Ed tries not to be annoyed. He really does. The Colonel’s always been well meaning, but he’s never been one of Ed’s favorite travel companions. If he wouldn’t have attracted too much attention he’d have tried to send him with Roy and assigned Havoc to this detail, though if he had he’d probably be worrying even more about Roy than he already is. “I spoke to him myself, but I’m sorry to say the connection wasn’t very good. The Captain did say he had something ready for you, however.”

“Well that’s good to hear at least.” Finally, something useful he can be doing. Ed immediately heads for one of the smaller of “Roy’s” trunks. Many of the larger ones are being left on one of the trucks, guarded around the clock by his men and others. It feels like a waste of manpower to him, but considering the trucks of supplies and artillery also need guarding it’s not too much extra work. Ed flips the bronze latches and opens the lid. The supplies he needs are right on top and he gathers them up quickly. There’s no point in wasting any more time.

Ed walks over to the table near the front of the room and nods to Hawkeye as she finishes clearing it off. She gives him a tight smile and as he lays out his materials he realizes the tension in the room is stifling. He pauses and looks down at the rolled mat, stack of blank papers, and bottle of ink. Roy would never let things get this bad. He’d never lose his temper with his subordinates. In all honesty, it’s been a long time since Ed’s been so volatile, but that’s still no excuse. He needs to fix this before they go any further.

Ed turns around and finds none of them are looking in his direction. All the better to avoid the wrath, right? Falman’s gazing at some point on the wall while tracing the stitching on the chair arms with his fingers. Armstrong’s fixed on some painting, probably redoing it in his mind, and Hawkeye looks lost in thought while her body’s a tight compressed line of disapproval with her hands clasped behind her back. He shakes his head slowly then takes a breath and clears his throat. He’s never been good at this, but he has learned sometimes humility is the better part of valor…or something like that. Damn Roy and all those asset management books he made him read. 

They each turn their eyes to look at him without a word and it’s obvious it’s only out of obligation. Has he really been _that_ much of an asshole? Considering the reproachful look on Hawkeye’s face, he’s certain he has. Damn, at least Havoc would’ve pulled him to the side and smacked him for being such a dick.

“Okay, first off I think I need to…,” Ed stops then shakes his head because that’s not how this should go. What was it Roy told him before? Your subordinates and coworkers need to believe your sincerity. Ok, no more waffling. He takes another deep breath then starts again. “I need to apologize to each of you. We’ve all been under a lot of pressure this trip, but it’s no excuse for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been an ass and I’m sorry.”

Silence.

The room is nothing but silent aside from the slow tick-tick of the wall clock. He’s not sure what he expected, but that wasn’t it. His own subordinates would be happily trying to earn their way back into his good graces. But these aren’t his subordinates. They’re Roy’s and he’s been working with them far too long to think that’s going to be enough. He glances around the room to see Falman toying with the cuff of his unbuttoned coat, Armstrong looking anywhere but at him, and Hawkeye giving him what he’s sure is a “go on” look. Time to suck it up, Ed, no room for pride now.

“Hawkeye, I was out of line. I never should’ve shouted at you over something none of us can control. You’ve always been nothing but patient with me and you didn’t deserve that.” Ed gives her his most sincere look because if he needs any of them to believe him it’s her. Eventually, they’re going to meet up with Roy again and he’d like it if he didn’t have to explain this to him later. He has no doubt at some point she’ll be giving Roy a full report on his actions whether he likes it or not. They’re loyal to him too but he knows Roy supersedes him in that. 

“Thank you, Edward. I appreciate your candor.” Her words are formal, but he doesn’t miss the slight upturn of her lips. “I’ve no doubt we’ve all been a little difficult to live with lately.” She nods at him and he lets out the breath he was holding. One down, two to go.

“Falman, I’ve been a particular horse’s ass to you and I’d like you to understand why.” Vato lifts his head from his intense observation of the silver piping on his cuff and Ed honestly can’t read his look. When did he get so stoic? Could it be all the time he’s spent mimicking Roy? Ed shakes his head and continues. “You’ve got the hardest job among us with the most risk and the most to lose and I have to tell you, you’re doing a brilliant job.”

Falman blinks at his words and it’s obvious Ed’s caught him completely off guard. Whatever he thought he was going to say that wasn’t it. Ed grins when he sits up straighter in the armchair and fidgets, feet shifting against the floor. That’s the Falman he’s accustomed to seeing. He stammers slightly then finally manages to speak. “Umm, thank you, sir. I-I’ve been doing my best….”

“You’ve been doing more than that.” Ed’s grin fades and he lets some of his frustration show. “You’ve been doing such a good job mimicking Roy that there are times, just for a moment, I think he’s with us. Then I realize it’s you and….” He pauses and shrugs, there’s really no other way to say it. “And it pisses me off that I get fooled. It grates on me and for that I have to apologize. You’re doing better than I ever expected so please, if I get short with you in the future, take it as a compliment.”

Falman blinks at him again, almost as if he didn’t understand a word Ed said, then smiles slowly. It’s a look Ed hasn’t seen him wear much and if he’s not mistaken it’s a very self-satisfied one. Falman nods and then quickly recomposes himself. “Thank you, sir. I also appreciate your being forthright with us and in the future, when we’re in a secure setting, I will endeavor to…’knock it off for a bit.’”

Ed snorts and shakes his head as a smirk crosses his lips. Who knew Falman could be so sarcastic? He pulls it off with such a straight face you’d almost think he didn’t know what he was saying, but Ed knows better. All of Roy’s men are like this, more than what they seem, and he needs to remember that and never take them at face value or for granted. He lets out a breath and is about to turn around and get back to his project when he catches Armstrong looking at him. Oh, right.

“And, uhhh, Armstrong.” Alex sits up a little straighter on the couch when Ed turns his attention to him and Ed really wants to get this over with as quick as possible. “I’m…sorry I called you an overgrownemotionalterrierthat’dbebetterservedelsewhere.”

He ducks his head slightly and he’s hoping that’s going to be good enough. He doesn’t mean to be rude, he really doesn’t, but at the same time he doesn’t think his words were that…untrue. But either way he’s more than old enough not to say it. Armstrong is an amazingly loyal asset and if he’s to be honest with himself…he does kinda like the guy. Not that he’d ever admit—

“Edward Elric, I _knew_ that wasn’t you!” Armstrong brings his hands to his chest in a move that makes Ed think of a young school girl with a crush then moves to his feet. “You’ve endured so much with the attack on the Fuhrer and dealing with the constant reminders of his absence, it’s no wonder you were at your wit’s end and now you’re worried about us. It’s so noble and grand and I, for one, will always follow you with my last brea—“

“Okay, okay, just…keep your shirt on, Colonel.” Ed puts out his hand in a warding off gesture because the last thing any of them need right now is an encore performance of Armstrong’s “magnificent physique.” Thankfully he does take a step back _and_ keeps his clothes on. But then he takes a breath, probably to gush some more, and Ed turns his attention to Falman and quickly asks, “So, Falman, I’m sure you know more about the history of Blum. Do you think you could fill us in a bit?”

“I, yes, sir, I actually familiarized myself with all the proposed towns along the planned route, as well as some on possible alternate routes.” Ed nods eagerly turning all his attention to Falman and away from the flamboyant Colonel. Ed’s eyes widen slightly when he realizes Falman’s serious about his preparation and Ed can only wonder when he found the time. Falman settles back into his chair and folds his hands together in his lap. “The village was founded during the 1850s rush for gold. Some traces of gold were found at the base of the Marchetti mountain range and the town of Blum grew up around them. Unfortunately, once more extensive mining was done it was found much of the gold collected was actually iron pyrite.”

“Fool’s gold.” Ed nods along with the story and wonders where it’s going. He’s never been much for history lessons unless it involved military tactics but it’s much better than dealing with Armstrong’s over the top exuberance. Falman nods at his words before continuing and Ed has to marvel at his encyclopedic knowledge of most things.

“Under normal circumstances, a place like Blum would have faded into history considering the rocky soil isn’t very hospitable for growing crops and the trees in the area aren’t very useful for the lumber industry. However, the area did boast the entrance to the most easily traveled mountain pass for several hundred miles, so small trade and some very determined Blum natives have kept the town alive.” Falman sits up a little straighter as he relays the story and it’s as confident and relaxed as Ed’s ever seen him when he’s not mimicking Roy. This type of thing seems to really put him in his element.

“Sooooo, why do we care so much about these people if it’s such a small town?” Ed frowns and moves his hands behind him as he leans back against the table. It doesn’t make any sense. If this is just a little podunk town in the middle of nowhere, why don’t they just ignore them and move on? Roy probably wouldn’t like him overlooking people this way, but you can’t please everyone and he’s not about to try.

“Because it’s not such an insignificant area anymore, Edward.” He tilts his head when Hawkeye speaks and forces himself to ignore the slight condescension in her tone. He’s heard her speak to Roy the same way hundreds of times over the years when he’s overlooked something so he knows it’s not personal. “Blum has become one of our leading resources for zinc right now since the mine in Crestfall’s become less productive.”

Ed frowns slightly. These days zinc is priceless for making bronze and brass shell casings, as well as for galvanizing anything made of steel to prevent rusting. If this place plays a key role in ensuring the production of weapons and other munitions, they can’t be pissing them off too much. But still, he doesn’t understand why everyone’s so worried. Surely he or Hawkeye could schmooze whoever needs their butt kissed, right? “Ok, I get why the area is important, but why’s there so much concern over this Bertrand Hollander guy?”

“I believe that has to do with how the military acquired the rights to the mine, doesn’t it?” Ed whips his head around to look at him when Armstrong throws in his two cenz. Is he the only one who doesn’t know about this place? Roy’s had him traveling too much lately. He’s apparently getting out of touch with current events. “Something to do with goats, right?”

“That’s exactly right, Colonel.” Falman nods to Armstrong then turns his attention back to Ed. Falman’s obviously figured out he’s the one who needs filling in, but he does it without a hint of condescension. His tone’s more one of education and respect that doesn’t make Ed feel like an idiot and he’s grateful for it. “It was a few years ago when the Blum area was found to be rich in zinc ore deposits. As you would imagine, the usual procedure would be to seize the mine for the military, especially now, but the rocky and mountainous terrain made it a little more challenging.”

Ed leans back against the table a little more and scowls at the mention of the military taking things by force. Unlike when he was younger, he does understand the need for immediacy in action. Sometimes you don’t have the option of appeasing everyone. There have been times in the last few years he’s done things he never would’ve when he was younger, back when the military was just an unwelcome means to an end. He sees the bigger picture now, though it doesn’t mean he always like it. Seizing things by force, however, crosses over into something else entirely and he doesn’t like the sound of it.

“The original operation was to bring in troops to occupy the zinc deposit areas under the cover of night.” Ed snorts at Falman’s words and he doesn’t even have to ask under whose rule that was ordered. Fuhrer Boulton had gone about things in the most deceptive and underhanded way while presenting a falsely innocent persona to the world. These days possession means more than what’s right and if his troops had been successful, there wouldn’t have even been a negotiation. It was a typical operation for Boulton, and though Ed wasn’t sad to see him go, no one deserves to be poisoned by their own men.

“So I’m guessing they didn’t succeed or there wouldn’t be much more to this story?” Ed’s not trying to be impatient, but they need to get on with things. He needs to see what information Fuery has for them so they can make their plans for tomorrow. He just wants an answer and he wants it now.

“You’re correct.” Falman nods as he laces his fingers together in his lap. “Apparently, Hollander assumed the military would try such a tactic and he knew he didn’t have the manpower to guard acres and acres of land. So he devised a plan to sound an alarm by utilizing their most plentiful commodity at the time. Goats.”

“He did what?” Ed blinks in confusion when he sees Armstrong nodding and smiling out of the corner of his eye. Apparently this story was a point of gossip at some point and he wonders where he must’ve been to have missed it.

“Hollander had all their goat herds, which were more than capable of traversing the rocky terrains, moved to graze over and around the areas of zinc deposits.” Falman smiles slowly and there’s no doubt he admires the man’s cleverness. “Goats don’t like being disturbed in their grazing area, particularly under the cover of night as they get nervous and sound an ‘alarm’ to warn their herd mates.”

“Ahhhhhh,” Ed murmurs as he stands up straight and crosses his arms. So this is the guy they’re dealing with. He’s smart and obviously willing to set a trap. They need to know more and they need to know it immediately. “Thank you, Falman. You’re a wealth of information as always.” He smiles his direction then turns around and directs his attention back to the items on the table. He spreads out the mat and looks over the predrawn array. He’ll need to make a few adjustments to account for their location, but that’s easy enough to do.

He claps his hands together, visualizing the adjustments that need to be made, then touches them to the mat. A few numbers and symbols corresponding to their location change before his eyes. He nods to himself when everything is how he wants it then he moves the blank paper and bottle of ink to their assigned places on the mat within the array. He’d come up with this idea when he was traveling far from Central and long distance correspondence was less than reliable. It was considered unique and ground breaking at the time but now it’s become common place.

Ed brings his hands to the large array and activates it. There’s a bright flash then in a third portion of the array some papers from the first section rematerialize covered in writing. The print comes from the ink in the second part of the array and it’s all an exact copy of papers Kain placed in a permanent array back in Central Command. The theory behind the long distance transmutation uses a mixture of traditional alchemy and alkahestry which they’ve learned connects everything no matter the distance. As long as one array’s in a fixed location the secondary array can be dialed in to connect with it. Ed spent nearly half a year making permanent arrays around the country once they got this process working reliably and simply enough that even a nonalchemist like Fuery can use the fixed array.

Ed grabs the papers and scans them over. It looks like Fuery’s detailed everything he could find about Blum and Hollander. Some of it covers what Falman already told them, but then he finds the section on current intelligence. Ed scowls at the words and shakes his head. “It looks like he’s been working at narrowing the road going through the town by building some viewing platforms and porches to existing buildings. It’s all under the guise of celebrating the Fuhrer’s passing through…but apparently there are rumors he’s been organizing people to block the procession.”

Ed growls at the reports and hands them off to Hawkeye to continue going through them. He shakes his head angrily and paces. “This is bullshit. He obviously just wants an audience to try and schmooze and make a better deal for the zinc mining, but this isn’t the time. It’s manipulative and asinine. Doesn’t he realize the country’s at war?”

“It looks like he’s only concerned with his own town’s welfare,” Hawkeye murmurs as she flips through the pages.

“Maybe we could claim the Fuhrer isn’t well? He couldn’t possibly argue with health issues.” Armstrong clenches and unclenches his fists and Ed has no doubt he’d like to deal with the man himself.

“From what I’ve heard about the man, he’d probably insist on providing his own personal physician. Either way, we’d probably be detained.” Falman shakes his head grimly and it only fuels Ed’s anger. Why does everyone think they have a _right_ to take a piece of Roy?

Loud banging on the room’s door causes him to jump and his eyes widen. Who could be bothering them this late? Has that fool Hollander sent someone ahead to bother them? Ed snarls as he turns for the door to answer it but before he can reach it, the door bursts open and Markus steps in with no warning. 

“Colonel Elric, we need to see you at the convoy truck. Some locals are trying to—” Markus’ words cut off and his eyes widen. He lifts his hand and points at Falman, still wearing the unbuttoned Fuhrer’s coat. “That’s _not_ the Fuhrer!”

Markus takes a step back but Ed’s quicker. He moves around him and claps his hands together, slamming them against the door and sealing it completely. He’d thought about doing this before to prevent something like this from happening but he didn’t want their ability to exit the room to rely on his or Armstrong’s alchemy. Now he wonders if that wasn’t such a good idea.

“I _knew_ something wasn’t right.” Markus’ grey-green eyes flash darkly as he pivots around to look at Ed. “You taught us better than this, Colonel. I’d expected something was wrong but I never expected _you_ to be the traitor!” He goes for the sidearm at his hip but Hawkeye’s already moved behind him, gun drawn, and she presses the muzzle against his back. He never stood a chance.

“Drop the gun, Lieutenant.” Her voice’s cool and even, leaving no doubt about her intentions if he doesn’t obey. “We aren’t your enemy, but if you don’t take your hand off your weapon, you’ll leave us no other options. Please, give the Colonel a chance to explain.”

Markus’ eyes widen again with surprise and realization. He lifts his hands up in front of him, palms open and facing forward, as Hawkeye leans forward to take the gun from its holster. He’ll have another weapon hidden on him somewhere and while both he and Hawkeye know this she doesn’t pat him down. Ed nods his approval because in a sense she’s showing they do still trust him. Also, he’ll probably be more willing to listen if he doesn’t feel completely helpless.

The betrayal’s more than evident in Markus’ eyes even while the rest of his features are painted over with anger and it twists Ed up inside. He was one of the first subordinates who really believed in him. All he can do now is hope that once he hears the whole story he’ll understand. Whether he’ll trust him again is still debatable. Ed locks his gaze with Markus’ hard stare unflinchingly. He can’t show weakness, not now. “Please, take a seat over there and I’ll explain the situation.”

Ed motions to the chair Falman just vacated and he sees he’s also stripped out of the coat signifying the rank of Fuhrer. It’s a smart move. The less traitorous things in plain sight the better. Markus moves to the chair reluctantly and Ed can see his training in action as his eyes dart around the room, cataloguing where each of them are. Right now he sees them all as threats and he’s probably trying to figure out how he’ll be getting out of this room alive. They didn’t need this. Not now.

Ed takes a deep breath as Markus sits down. He wishes he could’ve had this conversation with him earlier, on his own terms, but what’s done is done and now they need to deal with it. “The first thing you need to understand right now, Lieutenant, is that we’re all a decoy. I’m sorry you weren’t informed about this earlier but….” Ed glances over to Hawkeye who was in the same position he was with many of her most trusted subordinates. She shoots him a sympathetic look and he nods his thanks before continuing. “But for security reasons it was decided the fewer people who knew about this mission the better.”

Markus’ face hardens and his hands clench into fists on the arms of the chair. “So we’re all just sitting ducks, risking our lives for a meaningless show? We have a right to know what we’re in for. We have a right to know—”

“No you don’t!” Ed’s tentative control over his temper snaps. Markus should know better than this. It’s not about the individual soldier. Sometimes you just have to follow orders and damn Roy for making him see this all so clearly. He narrows his eyes at him and his voice turns hard and cold. “Right now the Fuhrer’s life depends on you keeping your mouth shut and maintaining the illusion he’s with us. He’s traveled ahead with only _one_ escort. If you run your mouth—”

“He’s as good as dead.” Markus’ voice is flat and even and Ed relaxes fractionally. This is why he always liked his First Lieutenant. He’s bright as well as intuitive. It’s also the reason he knew he’d never be able to lie to him without him suspecting something. Ed’s eyes widen slightly as he realizes Markus hasn’t even tried to mention whatever emergency brought him. It was probably all just a ruse to get in. He’s even cleverer than Ed gave him credit for and he needs to keep that in mind going forward.

“You’re exactly right.” If it got out Roy was traveling with only Havoc, there’s no question he’d be hunted down and killed before they even had a chance of finding or warning him. At least Markus is smart enough to understand that. “You need to keep this to yourself. Is that understood?”

“But Amos and Abbi….”

“Have to remain in the dark.” Markus’ face darkens again and Ed completely understands it. It’s exactly the way he felt when he was told he couldn’t inform his own men. “I know it’s unpleasant, and I have no doubt they’ll be awaiting your return to see what you found out.” Markus’ entire body stiffens at his words and Ed knows he guessed correctly, it was all a ruse for information. “I need to know I can trust you, Markus. I need to know you can keep this to yourself. Roy’s life depends on it.”

He deliberately uses Roy’s name in a way he rarely does outside of their immediate circle of friends. But he can see it had the desired effect as Markus’ face softens. His men know about his and Roy’s relationship, even if it’s never been spoken about openly. They know in the way he’s trained them so hard for anything concerning Roy’s safety. Markus nods slowly and Ed breathes a small sigh of relief. 

He scrubs his hands over his face before going to Hawkeye and retrieving Markus' weapon. The matter's as settled as he can make it. They don't have the time or the privacy for much else. He presents Markus with his weapon, stock first, and watches his face as he takes it. His features are schooled into a mask of blankness Ed can't read past. "You're free to leave at your discretion." 

He steps back and turns for the doorway to unseal it before anyone outside notices. "Sir...." He pauses at Markus' uncertain voice and raises a hand to stop him from continuing but doesn't look back at him.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need to. We won't disturb you." He doubts Markus'll get much of a chance to gather his thoughts once he steps outside the room. He'll be bombarded with questions and as good as he is thinking on his feet, it's different when you have to lie to those you trust the most.

He can feel Markus' eyes on his back as he walks to the door and unseals it with a quick press of his hands. But he doesn't speak again and Ed wonders what'll happen the next time he's alone with his unit. It won't be the same again. But it's a sacrifice he had to make. Hopefully it'll be the only one. 

"I'm going for a walk," Ed tells the room then steps outside. He expects to see Joga and Cintai but even they need a break from their duties.

He doesn't want to be in that room with all the words hanging in the air and Markus' eyes burning into him. He seriously contemplates a walk but that would take him outside past the men and he can't stomach more lies. He looks down the hall as he considers his options. There's not much he can do without running into someone and being spotted alone wouldn't be good either. He starts when the door opens behind him and steps to the side.

Markus steps out and they exchange a wordless glance before he hurries down the hallway. No doubt to get back to Amos and Abbi and fill them in on what he's “learned” before they consider storming the room themselves. He hopes whatever story he comes up with is a good one. Ed leans heavily against the wall by the door and closes his eyes. He just wants this all to be over. He's not cut out for this type of business and next time he'll make sure his stupid bastard takes that into account when he makes his plans.

One more crisis averted…who knows how many more to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrit are always loved and appreciated. :-)


	5. Chapter 5

They should reach Western Command today, just a few more hours and he’ll be out of this car for good. Roy slouches down in the backseat and tries to get comfortable, but he’s about had it with this form of travel. Thankfully they haven’t had any more issues since Red got the car running a few days ago. It turned out the spark plugs were fouled from an oil leak somewhere in the engine. Red tried to convince them to let him tear it all down and find it, but Roy’s not concerned about this car beyond getting them to their destination. Red assured them the new spark plugs should more than get them to the end of their journey and Havoc agreed. At this point, he’s just ready to be there, ready to survey the situation and ready to try and find a better solution.

He leans back in the seat to try and get a little bit of rest when a loud pop snaps him to attention. Is the car backfiring _again?_ He leans forward to ask Havoc’s opinion, but then the car swerves violently to the left. Roy grips the back of the seat as he sees Havoc grit his teeth and fight the wheel. Pops ring out again, this time echoing against the left side of the car and turning the reinforced windows into a spider web of cracks. They hold, but just barely, and Roy ducks down when he realizes they’re under fire.

“Can we make it through?”

“I’m gonna try and out run ‘em,” Havoc shouts back as he swerves the car again. “Seems like it’s coming from over that ridge though. They could be ahead of us.”

From the shots echoing off the bumper, it’s obvious whoever they are they’re behind them as well. To the left of them is higher ground where they’re probably hiding and a little to the right is thick woods. They’re penned in. The only way to go is forward, if they aren’t running straight into a trap. Roy holds tight to the backseat as Havoc jerks the wheel to avoid a deep pothole. They make it around a slight bend in the road and it looks like the road ahead’s clear. They’re going to make it. But then a different sounding pop rings out, louder than the others, and everything spins out of control.

The car shakes and skids across the gravel road violently. The noise must’ve been one of the tires exploding. His teeth jar together when Havoc hits something in the road while fighting to regain control. He spins the wheel one way, then the other, but it’s too late. They’re going too fast. Roy braces himself as the car hooks suddenly and he no longer hears the tires crunching on the road beneath them. It’s only when the windshield fills with blue sky that he realizes they’re airborne. He braces for impact and he sees dirt and grass through the cracked glass before everything goes black.

Breathing is the first thing he hears.

Breathing and ringing in his ears. The car must’ve wrecked. He tries to push off the seat but that’s when he realizes the seat is the roof of the car. They must be upside down. He blinks his eyes to focus and for a moment he can’t see. Something’s in his eyes. He wipes his hand across his brow and it comes away streaked with blood. Is that why his ears are ringing so loudly? He tries to move again and pain shoots through his back but then subsides. He’s hurt but he thinks he can move. It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.

Havoc!

He jumps as his mind begins to turn again and he remembers he’s not alone. He uses the front seat to pull himself across the roof of the car and he squints. The front of the car’s darker and it takes him a minute to put together it’s from the front windshield being buried in the dirt. He’s not sure if it’s Ed’s reinforcements or the dirt that’s saved them from glass shards everywhere. He shakes his head carefully and finally sees Havoc obviously unconscious and at an awkward angle. He has to get them out of here. 

Now.

Roy crawls carefully toward the door then flattens himself against the roof when the staccato of gunshots rattle off the opposite side of the car. He’s disoriented and doesn’t know which way is which but he does remember woods were to the north. If he can get them out maybe they can hide. If they stay here they’re done for. He finally makes it to the door and pulls the handle, but nothing happens. He jerks on it again, hard enough to send pain burning through his shoulder but it doesn’t budge. He has no idea how mangled the car is or how deep they’ve plowed into the earth. Either way it doesn’t matter because it all amounts to the door being jammed. 

He twists around in the cramped space until he gets his feet facing the door. He kicks it a few times and when it doesn’t give way he focuses on the cracked window. Two well-placed kicks later and it finally shatters with a loud snap. He considers attempting to turn around again but then his back sharply reminds him this isn’t the time for contortions. He curses low under his breath then squirms out the window feet first. Jagged glass pulls at his hair and clothes and nicks his hands and arms but he ignores it. He needs to get to Havoc.

Once he’s finally outside the car, he hunkers down beside it. He crawls over to the driver’s door and grips the handle with both hands. He pulls with all his might, but just like the back door it’s stuck. The roof being about two inchers lower than it should be probably helping. Roy readjusts his grip on the door handle then moves his foot against the car for leverage. He takes a deep breath and jerks as hard as he can. His back instantly screams in pain but he ignores it and jerks again. This time the hinges on the door give and it creaks loudly as it finally comes open.

Havoc tumbles forward and Roy has to move quickly to catch him as he half falls from the car. He carefully pulls him out the rest of the way and checks him over. He feels for a pulse and breathes out a sigh when he finds it. There’s blood on his temple, running down the side of his face, and a glance inside the car has him thinking he must’ve hit his head on the steering wheel. A deep crimson stain’s also forming at his shoulder and Roy pulls back his uniform jacket to have a look. He’s been winged by a bullet, but it’s not deep. He should be alright…if Roy can get them out of here. Thankfully when they crashed they ended up in a ditch because that and the car are doing a decent job of sheltering them from the gunfire.

He shakes his head slowly. They had no indication that Creta had encroached this far into Amestrian territory. He knew the borders had eroded, but this is much further than the last reports he saw. Gunfire rings out again and he ducks down behind the car, crouching over Havoc, but then his head whips around when he realizes it’s coming from the opposite direction. He leans up a little to look out of the ditch toward the woods and his eyes widen when he realizes they’re caught in crossfire. He can’t see the assailants yet, but from the sounds of it they aren’t military. He knows the sound of regulation Amestrian weaponry and that’s not it.

His mind spins as he leans over Jean to shield him from any errant bullets while he tries to think. The first attack was definitely Cretan fire. He recognized the rhythm of their repeating rifle, but the other has him stumped. It’s a mixture of weaponry and that can only mean one thing. He thinks back to Breda’s reports and he remembers mention of rebels in the area, of vigilantes taking up arms to protect themselves. It’s probably why Ethan’s father lost his pension. He must’ve been helping them. They must be the ones coming to his rescue…but he doubts they’ll be too friendly if they realize they have their hands on the Fuhrer. He needs to do some damage control. Fast.

Roy makes sure to remain crouched down, even though the position is killing his back. He definitely wrenched it somehow in the crash. He slides his hands under Havoc’s arms and pulls him away from the car. They’ll need to be clear of it for what he’s planning. It’d be even better if they had a berm to hide behind but distance is the best they can do for now. He crawls back to the car and retrieves his gun. He’s fairly certain Havoc at least has his knives on him, he knows he has his own, but he’d taken his gun off when he was trying to get comfortable. Unfortunately they couldn’t travel with too much of an arsenal and still maintain their cover story. He crawls through the open front door and thankfully finds his firearm tossed in the back. He grabs it along with the little car Ethan gave him and then digs through Havoc’s bag. He finds a couple packs of his cigarettes and he pockets them before sliding back out the door.

He pulls his gloves out of his pocket once he gets back to Jean and slides on one of his ignition gloves. He doesn’t know how much time he has so he needs to make this count. He covers Havoc’s body with his own once more then focuses on the rear gas tank and snaps his fingers. His heart pounds in his ears as the rear of the car explodes into flame and he ducks his head until the most intense blaze is over. He needed to make sure he destroyed every trace of who they really are. That’s a start.

He quickly turns his attention back to Havoc and he rifles through his pockets. He finds his half a pack of open cigarettes and he takes those along with his lighter. It’ll be a good cover for Roy to have the lighter on him and they might need that later on. He finds his military I.D. next and Roy tosses it along with his own in the burning car. It’ll be best if they have nothing to be questioned with beyond their word. Gunshots sound again, much closer this time and Roy knows he’s running out of time. He quickly scratches an array Ed helped him master into the ground and rolls Havoc over it. A quick flash later and the stars and stripes on his shoulder reveal him to be a First Lieutenant once more instead of a higher ranking Lieutenant Colonel. Hopefully that will help their story as well.

Roy gives Havoc a quick once over, finding nothing but smudged dirt and blood to betray them, then he turns to his own appearance. He reaches into his pocket for his silver watch and wraps the chain tight around his wrist. He jerks his wrist hard enough to scrape it up then repeats the process on the other. The chain’s nowhere near thick enough but hopefully with the marks layered over each other no one can tell the difference. He’s hoping it’ll give the appearance he was in handcuffs. As it is he’s wearing a plain white button down and dark grey trousers, the same a prisoner being transferred might wear. He doesn’t know if his “rescuers” will believe his story but it sounds like the rebels are winning the fight as the fire from the ridge is becoming more sporadic. Now it’s time to leave his message.

He scans the area for a hiding place and doesn’t see anything that’ll work. The low brush and rocks are too far out of reach. He shakes his head, alchemy it is. He stays down in the ditch and crawls several yards ahead of the crash site. The path his body makes in the dirt should just look like he was crawling away from the wreckage. Then he etches another array in the dirt and uses it to form a large heavy rock that matches some he’s seen in the area. He uses the stone to dig a shallow hole and he puts his gloves and his pocket watch inside. He covers the hole with the stone and arranges it until it looks as natural as possible. He’s taking a chance their pursuers don’t know every rock and hollow in this place but it’s a chance he has to take. There’s only one person this would stand out to and that’s the one he needs to see it. Roy places his hand over the rock for a moment and takes a deep breath. Showtime.

He crawls back over to Havoc, pulls his gun, and waits. The shots from the ridge have completely stopped and he can hear the group from the woods coming closer. He positions himself so he’ll be between them and Havoc. He doesn’t know who they are but he’s not going down without a fight. He only wishes more of the odds were stacked in his favor. He made a promise to survive and he intends to keep it.

Roy holds his breath and cocks his head to listen. He can hear movement coming from the direction of the woods and he pulls the hammer back on his gun while he slides his left hand into his pocket for Havoc’s lighter. He’d prefer not to use alchemy, considering it’ll instantly give away his identity, but if it means their survival he’ll do what needs to be done. There’s an obvious sound of footsteps coming directly for them but it’s the slight rustle behind and to his left that has his attention. They have the high ground and familiarity and he can do nothing but wait. Whoever these people are they’re organized. His flame won’t be as useful as he thought considering he’s certain they’re surrounded and he can’t see all his targets.

The footsteps grow louder and Roy stands slowly, gun pointed down in front of him as he takes a defensive stance in front of Havoc. He hides the lighter in his left fist and scans the small group of mismatched rebels coming toward him, all with their guns drawn. One look tells him they’ve been living of the land or at the very least adept at hiding in their surroundings. They’re scruffy and comfortable and they barely make a sound as they move. 

These are the worst type of adversaries to fight because they tend to know the area well and know exactly how to use it to their advantage, like surrounding their enemy without being obvious about it. He spots a few men he’s certain are ex-military, their weaponry and bearing giving them away easily. Thankfully it’s only a few of them. Hopefully they won’t be too familiar with the new Fuhrer’s face.

One particularly rough looking man, with greasy hair and convict’s grin, breaks away from the group and comes toward him, gun swinging in his right hand as he swaggers forward. There’s no question this man was never military. His body language reeks of defiance and rebellion with an undercurrent of danger. He sneers when he gets a better look at Roy and Havoc and it leaves Roy no doubt their lives may unfortunately be in this man’s hands. Roy’s fist tightens around the lighter and he adopts a defensive posture.

“Looky here, boys. Looks like we’ve got us a couple of military dogs.” His light hearted tone belies the look of sheer malice in his eyes. This man’s a killer, pure and simple, and Roy’s certain there won’t be any reasoning with him as long as he sees him as military. This type of man probably doesn’t even believe in what the group’s fighting for, he’s just seizing the opportunity to follow his lawless whims. Roy needs to hold his ground and he adjusts his stance, keeping himself between the man and Havoc as he raises his gun slightly.

“Speak for yourself.” Roy hardens his eyes and lifts his chin slightly in defiance. Showing weakness to a hyena like this will only get them killed faster. “I’m dog to no man.”

“That so?” The thug saunters forward another step and Roy catches a whiff of someone who probably hasn’t bathed in at least a month. “Then why are you protecting _that?_ ” He turns his head, long strands of greasy hair swaying, and spits as he motions toward Havoc with the gun. Roy clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on his gun. He makes no move to back down and the man sneers at him. “Drop the gun. The boys have you surrounded. We don’t take kindly to your type ‘round here.” He motions with his gun toward Roy again. “Drop the gun and _maybe_ we’ll let you live.”

“I don’t think so.” Roy’s eyes narrow. He has no doubt this man would sooner shoot him where he stands than talk diplomacy. He’s lying and Roy’s not about to risk their lives on this man’s word. “How do I know you won’t just kill me anyway?” Roy shakes his head and raises his gun a little higher. “No deal. Tell your men to back off or I won’t be the only one they’re burying tonight.”

The thug bristles, obviously not accustomed to being opposed. Roy watches him closely, waiting for him to get overconfident and give him an opening but instead he takes a slow step to the side and levels his gun right at Havoc’s head. “Drop the gun. NOW. Or this dog is being put down.”

Roy hears him cock the gun and he grinds his teeth in frustration. He made a miscalculation thinking this man was a total fool who would be distracted by his anger toward Roy alone. He’s better trained than Roy expected and that doesn’t bode well for him or Havoc. There’s nothing else he can do so he uncocks his weapon and tosses it a couple feet away. The lighter’s still hidden in his left hand and he knows he can flame this fool if he needs to. His accuracy would be better with his gloves but—

Sharp pain flares across his jaw as he’s struck with the butt of the man’s pistol.

“On your knees, DOG!”

Roy fists his hands in suppressed rage and staggers to stay on his feet. But then he’s clocked in the jaw again and he falls hard to his knees. Still he doesn’t submit. He glares up at the bastard and spits blood at him as he carefully flips open the lighter. “I told you, I’m _NO MAN’S_ dog!”

The thug lifts his pistol again and presses it against Roy’s forehead. The cool metal sends a chill through him, but not from fear. It’s a dead calm he’s mastered from years under combat. He moves his thumb to the striker and prepares to light this bastard up. He may not come out completely unscathed, but he will come out of this alive. He won’t lose his life to this piece of trash.

Roy glares up at his captor, daring him with his eyes to pull the trigger for one last moment and the man spits in his face as he screams back at him. “Good! Then no one will miss you when you’re dead!”

“That’s enough, Blade.”

The unknown voice shatters the intensity of the standoff and Blade’s hand that was so sure a moment ago begins to tremble as he grips the gunstock tighter. He wants to kill him. It’s written in his eyes and in the bared yellow teeth of his sneer. He sees Roy isn’t one to be dominated and that’s obviously a direct threat to whatever world this man’s living in. Roy holds his gaze unwaveringly as his thumb rests on the lighter’s striker.

“I said that’s _enough!_ ” The command comes strong and sure and Roy catches movement from the corner of his vision as one of the seemingly unimportant gunmen steps forward with the air of a leader. Brown haired, broad shouldered, well-muscled with a barrel chest and blue piercing eyes, he’s about Roy’s height, maybe a little taller and walks with the easy grace of a man sure in himself and his skills. In an instant Roy realizes this was a setup. He knew someone that walks the line between control and rage wouldn’t be able to lead men, much less coordinate a resistance. The first gunman was a decoy. They didn’t want to give away their true leader too quickly. It’s not a strategy he would’ve expected from disorganized rebels or marauders or whatever they claim to be. 

Blade grits his teeth then shoves Roy hard with the barrel of the gun. Roy holds his gaze without a trace of fear or submission and smirks slightly as Blade finally lowers the gun. He shouldn’t antagonize him but he’s faced much bigger threats than this pissant. Blade bristles again, but apparently this leader has a hold on even a thug like him. He doesn’t back away, but he doesn’t attack him either.

“What are you trying to pull, Rollo? We don’t need to draw this kind of attention to ourselves.” The apparent leader locks his eyes on Blade and Roy notices his gun is drawn but not raised. He hasn’t turned any of his attention to Roy, but he has a feeling that’s because he doesn’t feel he has full control of his own man. “Don’t you think the military keeps track of when their soldiers arrive and where? We don’t need this on our heads too.”

“I told you not to call me that!” Blade hisses but finally turns away from Roy to look at his leader. “Besides, we’re the ones who drove the Cretans off to save this military scum.” Blade motions toward Roy and Havoc angrily. “I say we kill them now and blame it on Creta. We don’t need ‘em.”

The leader arches an eyebrow and levels his eyes on Blade. The action seems to have the desired effect as Blade looks away and down at the dirt. “Are we killing every military man we find now? What about me?” He waves his hand at several of the men standing at the top of the ditch looking down at them. “You know very well a full third of our forces used to be military. Shall we kill our men as well?”

Blade scowls and shoots his leader a petulant look through stringy hair that reminds Roy of a very young and very headstrong young alchemist he used to know. Blade obviously doesn’t like following orders, but for some reason he’s willing to follow this man. It says something about his leadership and tells Roy he needs to be wary. This man is obviously a threat if he can organize men like this.

“Morel, he refused to surrender.” There’s a whiny tone to Blade’s voice now and it brings a hint of a satisfied grin to Roy’s lips. “He’s—“

“He’s a smart man.” Morel’s eyes finally turn from Blade to lock on Roy and he gets the distinct feeling he’s being sized up by someone who could be extremely dangerous. “Surrounded and outgunned, he knew surrender would be death at your hands.” He gives Roy another long searching look and Roy notices the slight scar through his right eyebrow before he turns back to Blade. He’s obviously not a man adverse to taking action. “Enough. Your job is to report back to me what you find, not take action on your own behalf. Get him up and let’s go before the Cretans bring backup or the military figures out they have a missing man.”

Blade snorts and makes no move to help Roy as he stands, not that he expected it. Roy brushes himself and slides the lighter back into his pocket. This Morel may be dangerous, but at least he seems willing to be reasonable. Roy’s about to address him directly, but then Blade suddenly lifts his gun again and points it toward Havoc.

“At least let me put this one down. He’s obviously the commanding officer. There’s no telling what letting him live could bring down on us.”

Roy takes a step to the side to block Blade’s shot but then Morel reaches out and lowers Blade’s arm himself. “Leave him. He’s no consequence to us. Let the Amestrian military see for themselves what Creta’s doing.” Morel turns and levels his gaze on Roy, his voice taking on an even more stern tone. “As for you, you’re coming with us. We don’t need you running off to tell your commanders about our faces.”

Roy’s eyes widen when he realizes their intention is to leave Havoc behind. There’s no telling what kind of damage the head wound could’ve done and there’s no guarantee of any help coming along either. They’d deliberately chosen to taken this road from the last town because it was more deserted. They had no idea the area was so unstable. He can’t let Havoc be sacrificed this way, not now.

He takes a step forward and calls out to the leader as he turns to climb out of the ditch. “Morel? Is that what they called you?” The leader stops and turns back to look at him, obviously not expecting Roy to address him this way. “You claim you were military once, right?”

Morel pauses then turns to face him completely, curiosity evident on his face from Roy’s line of questioning. “I was.” He tilts his head to study Roy more closely and Roy hopes that as smart as this man seems to be he’s not smart enough to realize what’s really going on here. Roy has no doubt if he knew who he was it could be extremely dangerous for this entire area. “What of it?”

Roy feels the weight of Morel’s gaze and he knows everything is riding on what he does next. Hopefully he can be convincing enough. “So was I.”

Morel arches an eyebrow and Roy lifts up his hands to show his abraded wrists. “I’m a deserter. This man was assigned to transfer me back to Western Command, but he’s a sympathizer.” Morel’s look turns to one of doubt, piercing blue eyes narrowing, and Roy quickly continues. “He was going to give me a chance to run. He unbound me.” Roy raises his wrists again. “He even gave me a gun.” He motions over to the gun still in the dirt. “He’s a good man. At least give him the chance to leave the military of his own will. Don’t leave him out here to die.”

He’s wavering. Roy can see it in his eyes but he’s still not completely convinced. So far the story is too circumstantial and he knows it. He needs to make him believe so he makes his best guess on the situation around them and hopes he’s right. “Think. You know this road isn’t routinely traveled by the military. Everyone knows this region’s unstable. Why in hell would a single guard take this route when he knew there’d be danger? He was trying to give me the best chance. Can’t you see that?”

“Fair enough.” Morel motions and several men Roy didn’t even see jump down into the ditch. “Bring him along. Once he’s healed up, he can speak for himself.” Roy breathes a sigh of relief and hopes he hasn’t signed both their death warrants by throwing their lot in with these men, but he hardly sees another option. Hopefully Ed will be here soon and he’ll find his gloves and pocket watch. He’ll know he’s alive and then he’ll send the help they need.

“Westcott, check in with the other scouts and see that this was the only Cretan activity in the area. This is the first time they’ve encroached this deep and I want to make sure it’s the last.” Morel turns to Blade and motions toward the charred remains of Roy and Havoc’s car. “Blade, you and Liddell take some men and make sure that car disappears. We don’t need random wreckage drawing more attention to the area.”

Roy listens to the commands and quietly makes his way over to his gun still in the dirt. Morel obviously knows what he’s doing, but he has no doubt Ed will still find them. Once Breda realizes they’re missing, they’ll find the car anyway. Roy reaches out for the gun and winces when Morel pins his hand with his foot. Roy looks up at him and scowls. “So I’m to be completely at your mercy, am I?”

“Precaution.” Morel looks down at him and Roy wipes blood from the corner of his mouth. “I have few enough men to spare dealing with you. I don’t need to risk their lives over someone I just met.” Morel leans down to pick up Roy’s gun and Roy keeps his eyes trained on the weapon. “We’ll see in time if you deserve a weapon. Until then….” Roy glances up to find the man giving him an unexpectedly sympathetic look. “I can’t exactly have you knowing how to get to our base, can I?”

Pain flares sharply through Roy’s temple as Morel brings the butt of the gun down and across his head. White light flashes across his vision before deep blackness settles in. He’s vaguely aware of the feeling of falling but he manages to hold onto one thing as he loses consciousness. He’s alive and he’s going to stay that way. No matter the cost.

~*~*~*~

Ed walks through the rapidly assembling campground, for what’s probably the fifth time, checking over the progress and watching for anything amiss. This is the day they’ve been dreading from the beginning and he’s so tense he’s ready to snap. That’s why he’s out of the car and stalking around amongst the men to keep from snapping at the people who don’t deserve it. It’s not the best thing to be doing but it’s the only thing he can do. If he tried to help setup or anything, he’d only be in the way. The majority of the tents are up, even the one designated for the Fuhrer, and Ed doesn’t like it. He doesn’t care if they’re woodland camouflaged. He still feels like a sitting duck out here.

Even back in Central they knew exiting the mountains would be the most likely point for an ambush with the way the narrow road winds through the Snowden Valley. They pushed extra hard to leave the last town before dawn and made it through both the mountains and nearly out of the valley as well. There’s still some higher ground around them though and it’s making him uneasy. He keeps glancing at it out of the corner of his eye, hoping maybe it’ll have disappeared since the last time. Yes, they’ve made it through the day without incident, but it feels like they’re pushing their luck. It wasn’t a unanimous decision to camp, but considering Western Command’s still over a day and a half away with no other town in between they didn’t have much of an option.

Ed scowls as he walks along the line of empty trucks outlining the perimeter that contained the tents and camping supplies. To think it was only a few days ago when their biggest concern was a damn goat politician and zinc mines. Ed scrubs his hand over his face and shakes his head. He still can’t believe it turned out they weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. Not even Kain had heard Hollander was mostly blinded a few months back in a zinc processing accident. He’d asked for their discretion as he was afraid his injury might hurt his political standing. Falman and Hawkeye were able to meet with him in private and smooth over the entire situation.

What he’d give now for only a blind man and weather to worry about.

He looks across the rows of vehicles parked in defensive positions to the newly formed encampment. It’s obvious for anyone with eyes which tent’s designated for the Fuhrer, the extra big one placed in the center, just like the car, and Ed’s convinced it’s going to get them all killed. Yes, it’s nice to know where he is to protect him, but what good will it do if they’ve already been targeted and killed? Ed makes his way back to the car Falman’s still waiting in and glances up at the sky. They’re a little less than an hour from dusk and they’ve made good time setting up. He slides his hand along the back of the car as he makes his way around it and looks up when he sees Markus heading his way.

Ed takes a breath and steels himself for the interaction to come. He and Markus haven’t spoken but for orders and commands since he found out about Falman and each time it gets harder. Ed hates the look of betrayal in his eyes and he wonders how long before his other subordinates pick up on Markus’ distrust. They were always a tight unit and he has no doubts this will eventually tear them apart. Ed leans back against the car when Markus reaches him and as much as he’d like to try and make things more casual the way they were he doesn’t. Markus has made it more than clear he’s not interested. “Report, Lieutenant.”

Markus snaps to attention then nods toward the car. “Here to inform you the Command Tent is ready for the Fuhrer.” Ed nods and barely holds back a sigh at the professional tone to his voice even if his words lack the “sir” at the end. He probably should’ve called him on it but he feels like Markus deserves to give him that bit of disrespect with all things considered.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.” He hates this formal crap, but he won’t push the situation. He was probably too lax and more friendly with his subordinates than he should’ve been. But then even Roy used to take his unit out for beers. He thought he was being a good commander, but maybe he was acting too much like a friend and blurred the lines between commander and soldier. He was never comfortable with seeing anyone under his command as just cannon fodder but maybe if he’d been more professional he wouldn’t be dealing with personal relationships and the pitfalls they bring. He finally does sigh when Markus turns away, but then frowns in confusion when he immediately turns back around.

“Actually, sir, there was something else.” Markus straightens up again as if he was to give an official report and Ed’s not sure what this is. The “sir” coming off his lips sounds strange after the past several days without it. Could he be looking for a transfer already? It’s hardly the time or the place, though he can’t say he’d blame him. “I’d like to say that I regret some of my actions from the past few days. I’ve been disrespectful and—“

“Cut the crap, Markus.” Ed pushes off the car and crosses his arms. He’s in no mood for official butt kissing. He’d actually have preferred a transfer request to this awkward posturing. Even back when Roy was a manipulative bastard, he’d still give it to him straight when Ed asked for it. He couldn’t stand talking in circles then and he tolerates it even less now when he can control it. “If you have something you want to say, just say it.”

Markus snaps his mouth shut and Ed’s certain he’ll walk away. But then the corner of Markus’ mouth turns up slightly in an amused smile Ed never expected to see directed at him again. “Always are for cutting through the bullshit, aren’t you, sir?” The smile grows and Ed finds himself relaxing slightly at the familiarity as Markus takes a breath. “I’ve had some time to think and I wanted to say though I’m still not happy with being lied to, I understand the circumstances. I know it’s not my place to question orders and I let my emotions get the better of me. You have orders to follow too and you’ve always been more than fair to us.” He locks his eyes with Ed’s and it’s easy to read the truth in them. “I feel I haven’t given you the same respect and I’d like to apologize.”

Ed stares at him because of all the things he expected him to say that wasn’t it. He was prepared for a lecture on all his faults as a leader and as a person, not this. He uncrosses his arms and presses his hands against the smooth metal of the car behind him. “I appreciate that.” He pauses and considers keeping it at that, but when has he ever been able to keep his mouth shut? “But you didn’t have to apologize. You’ve followed my orders without question even after I treated you like crap, orders or no orders.” He tilts his head slightly and lets a smile steal across his own lips. “It’s a shitty situation all the way around, isn’t it.”

Markus laughs and shakes his head, probably at Ed’s lack of professionalism, but Ed doesn’t care. He’s always had a unique style of leadership and he knows it’s not for everyone. But he’s not looking to become Fuhrer or anything like it. He just wants to lead and protect his men to the best of his ability and if he can do that with a little less bullshit the more the better. Markus holds out his hand and Ed clasps it without a second thought. They shake once and Ed feels like he’s a step closer to everything being back to normal. Just another day or so and it’ll all be over.

“I suppose you could say that.” Markus grins and takes a step back as Ed turns to knock on the window to signal Falman it’s time for him to come out. Long as it’s taken to get things together he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fallen asleep, if not for the stress of the day. Ed taps on the glass, then freezes when he sees a reflection down the road, obvious in the fading light. Could that be a car? This area’s not well traveled and they didn’t give the location of where they were stopping to anyone. No one should be coming to meet them.

“I’ll get Amos and see what that’s about.” Ed nods when Markus obviously sees the same thing he has.

In addition to the reflection, he now sees a dust cloud forming. It must be a car and he can’t imagine what that could mean. Surely an attack wouldn’t be so direct. Could it be a decoy? Ed stares after Markus for a moment then turns back to the car and opens the door. It’s probably best to get Falman over to the tent in the center of the encampment. The car’s too exposed for his liking. He glances toward the tents to see the way’s cleared but for Joga and Cintai coming toward him to escort Falman.

Ed leans down to peek his head inside the car and smiles when he sees Falman rubbing his eyes. Apparently he was able to doze off after all. Somehow he still looks as pristine as Roy would and one day he’s going to asking one of them how they manage it. He’s never been able to himself but maybe that’s because he doesn’t care enough. Ed grins and teases him no different than he would his own bastard. “Have a nice nap?”

Falman shoots him a tiredly annoyed look that makes Ed chuckle. He brushes a hand over his hair to make it look more like how Roy would wear it. They really have come a long way on this trip and there’s no doubt their relationship will never be quite the same. “Very funny, Edward.”

Falman slides out of the car and Ed shoots him a grin. The journey has definitely been a difficult one but at least they’re nearing the end. Things have gotten a little easier since he lost his temper. It always helps to vent but he’s pretty sure Falman’s also trying to be less annoying, or maybe he’s just getting used to it. Either way, he’s not ready to scream every time he puts on his “Roy act.” Ed smirks as Falman pauses to pull his hat down a little lower and adjusts the long black coat over his shoulders before following after Joga and Cintai. Roy really is a priss about his appearance sometimes and Ed never noticed it so much as he has watching Falman go through all the motions.

Ed turns and follows after Falman and his guards when the loud retort of a rifle shatters the peace. Everything slows to a crawl as Falman staggers and grabs his shoulder. Joga and Cintai immediately turn, drawing their guns with their shadows long before them, and the world seems to still for a beat before it erupts into chaos. Everything comes back into focus with a whoosh of sound as Ed rushes forward and tackles Falman to the ground. Guns go off in quick succession from both sides as the guards fire in the direction of the shooters and Ed hears a cry of pain that mixes with one Falman makes when he hits the dirt.

Everything’s a cacophony of sound as gunshots mix with people yelling they’re under attack. Orders are shouted and gunfire rains down around them, ricocheting off the cars behind them with loud pings and the splintering sound of glass breaking fills the air. The ground shakes and Ed braces himself before looking down at Falman. There’s blood soaking his uniform but as bullets pepper the ground around them he knows there’s no time to deal with it.

“Fullmetal, get the Fuhrer under cover. NOW!”

Ed’s already scrambling as Cintai shouts and he does his best to help Falman to his feet. Falman groans in pain but doesn’t protest as Ed drags him out of the open and toward the row of transport vehicles, crouching down behind the nearest one they find. The encroaching darkness makes it hard to see where the shots are coming from. Ed looks to the reinforced car and considers taking shelter there until another hail of bullets pound the metal and crack the enhanced glass. He made it stronger, but not completely bulletproof. Right now it’s a target and it won’t hold up under this fire. Falman’s leaning heavily against him and he glances back over his shoulder. “Can you move?”

“Yes. It’s merely my shoulder.” He grimaces in pain but nods anyway. He looks pale and determined and Ed won’t argue with him for now. “Lead the way, Edward. I’m alright.” 

Ed’s not too sure about that last part but after the next hail of bullets he wraps his arm around Falman’s waist and half drags him along the row of vehicles. The sleek passenger cars provide little cover but they manage to move relatively quickly, pausing and ducking behind one car, then the next, using the growing shadows to their advantage. The shooters are obviously tracking them and they need to get out of sight. 

Ed spots the tall, solid food supply truck a ways down the line next to the cooking tent and he motions toward it. Falman nods and in the next break in fire they rush forward. Ed staggers a bit under Falman’s weight, weaving side to side more than moving in a straight line, but they make it, stumbling into the side of the truck with another volley of bullets on their heels. Dirt kicks up behind them as the rounds slam into the ground and Ed’s immensely glad the trucks are built as solidly as they are. He doesn’t want to think about the shit they’d be dealing with if they weren’t. 

Falman leans heavily against the truck then slides down to the ground. His hand’s pressed to his left shoulder and Ed’s eyes widen when he sees his entire left side’s soaked with blood. The dusk laps at him, covering him in shadows, and he looks more a part of the land of the dead than the living. Ed knew he was shot, but he had no idea it was this severe. He remembers Roy getting shot long ago, and how he sealed the wound with his flame, but that won’t be happening this time. He fights back the undercurrent of fear he’s feeling then kneels in front of Falman and tugs at his hand. “Come on, let me look at it. You’re bleeding pretty bad.”

Falman initially resists then carefully pulls his shaking, blood covered hand away. Ed shoves the black coat off his shoulders then gingerly pulls at the rest of his uniform. He’s not the best one for this but every soldier has basic first aid training. He’ll have to do for now. It’s a through and through but despite that good fortune, Ed’s pretty sure it shattered his shoulder blade. Falman’s panting and bleeding a lot, but he thinks the bullet missed the artery. If not it won’t much matter what he does now.

“Ahhhhh, fuck,” Falman curses sharply then closes his eyes and leans against the truck. Ed wishes he had something to give him for the pain but any attempts at retrieving a first aid kit would only bring bullets raining down on his head. Falman pants through his agony then slits his eyes open to look at Ed. “I’m still breathing, so I assume it missed the heart?”

Ed nods grimly then moves Falman’s hand back up to cover the wound. He pulls one of his throwing knives out to shred the coat into strips but then stops to pull his gun when he hears rapid footsteps approaching. He turns quickly, his weapon aimed at the potential threat and knife ready to be thrown until he hears Markus’ voice calling out to him over the staccato of gunfire.

“It’s me, Colonel.” Abbi’s at his side, looking relatively unfazed despite the chaos surrounding them and before Ed can say a word Markus beats him to it. “I know, I know but I saw the Fuhrer was shot. She has her medical kit.”

Ed nods his approval because now isn’t the time for protocol. Ed won’t risk Falman’s life for a damn charade. Abbi runs to the side of the truck, but freezes when she finally sees Falman, his features still distinct enough in the fading light, and looks back at Ed. “Sir, that’s not—“

“He is for now.” Abbi stares at Ed for a moment then nods and kneels down beside Falman, brushing her hair behind her ear as she opens her kit. “The bullet entered from behind, and I think it missed the artery….”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of getting him patched up. You deal with the battle.” Ed smiles slightly at her no nonsense response then flinches when the ground shakes again. He’s not sure if it’s shelling or Armstrong’s alchemy causing it. He attempts to peek over the truck hood but immediately has to duck when bullets skitter across the metal and shatter the front window. Most of the glass falls inside the cab but some scatters on the ground. 

Great, just fucking great, something else to make things more difficult. He crouches next to the oversized truck tire, one hand gripping the treads as he tries to think. They’re effectively pinned down and he’s not even completely sure where the enemy is. He needs a report but everything around him is chaos. The ground continues to shudder intermittently and he hears branches crack and fall, indiscriminate about what they land on.

Ed feels a tug at his arm and he’s surprised to find Falman with his eyes locked intensely on him. It looks like Abbi’s slowed the bleeding and Falman’s pushed himself up a little more. His voice’s a little strained, but hard as steel nonetheless. “Take control, Fullmetal. Just like he would.” Falman reaches for his firearm and shoots Ed a determined look. “We’re all ready to fight.”

Ed shakes his head when it’s obvious Falman isn’t ready to sit this one out, but he has to admit he’s impressed. Sometimes with the work he usually does, it’s easy to forget all that time Falman spent in Briggs with General Armstrong. “You need to stay down. If people see you—“

“No one will believe their eyes after the battle.” Falman grits his teeth as Abbi tightens the bandage on his shoulder. “Remember it’s all about the perception.”

Ed nods and moves toward the back of the truck staying in a crouch to keep a low profile and around Markus who’s guarding Abbi’s back. He spots someone taking aim from behind a truck several yards out who’s obviously not military. He squeezes off a few rounds but as he expected the attacker ducks behind the truck. He’s sure it’s just one but the shadows aren’t helping him. 

It looks like they’re at a stalemate, at least at this end of the camp. He wishes he had a better idea about the rest of the battle but they’re relatively isolated. Ed grits his teeth. Even Markus saw Falman was shot. For all they know the word could be spreading that the Fuhrer’s dead and considering there’s no one using flame alchemy….

“Colonel Elric!” Ed jerks his head around at the voice and he spots Amos ducking behind one of the tents several yards away. He’s a sitting duck out there, as if his pale complexion and red hair didn’t make him stand out enough, and Ed moves to his feet, using the truck for cover.

“Markus, Abbi give him some cover fire.” Ed draws his own gun and sends a dozen or so rounds in the direction of the last shots he heard. Markus and Abbi join in and Amos sprints across the gap to reach them. He’s covered in sweat, dirt streaked, and panting from running the gauntlet of tents to reach them. He takes cover behind the truck then starts in surprise when he sees who Abbi’s tending to.

“Hey, wait, shouldn’t that be—“

“It’s not important now, Amos,” Markus quickly corrects him. He locks his eyes on the younger Sergeant Major and Amos nods quickly. “Report. You made it to the approaching car, correct?”

“Yes, sir. He was apparently one of General Hagan’s men, come to warn us.” He gestures with his thumb toward the gunshots still raining down on them sporadically. Ed idly wonders how large the enemy’s ammo supply is and if they’ve started conserving yet. “They shot him though. Now they’re using our own outlying trucks for cover.” Amos glances to Falman again then looks to Ed. “He said there’s a safe house a couple miles south. Hagan’s family estate. He also said he was concerned about the Fuhrer’s welfar—“

The rest of Amos’ sentence is cut off by a heavy round of fire that rocks the truck they’re taking cover behind. That would be a no on ammo consumption and Ed clenches his weapon tighter. The attackers are getting closer, but at least Ed has an idea now where they’re taking cover. They’re pressing their advantage, something people rarely do when face with the true Flame Alchemist. They must think he’s already incapacitated. Ed glances to Falman then gets an idea. It’s dangerous…but it could send a message to their attackers and their own men.

“Falman, can you stand?”

Falman looks up at Ed and after a moment nods. Abbi tries to object but he bats her hands away and turns his attention to Ed. “Yes.” His right hand holds his gun a little unsteadily and he makes a face. “I’m not sure about my accuracy, however.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ed’s eyes lock on the ignition gloves he’s wearing and he takes a deep breath. Flame alchemy isn’t his forte, but over the years Roy has taught him his fair share. He doesn’t remotely have Roy’s control, but for what he’s planning he won’t need it. “Can you snap your fingers?”

Falman’s eyes widen slightly and he nods. “Yes, sir. Point me in the right direction and I’ll play my role well.” Falman looks to Abbi expectantly and she very reluctantly pulls his right arm over her shoulders after he holsters his weapon. He’s unsteady on his feet but settles then looks back at E and nods once more. “I’m ready. I can do this.”

Ed shoots him an encouraging smile then turns his attention to Amos. “Cy’s been riding in the scout car, right?” Amos nods and Ed hates to send him back under fire but he is their fastest runner. The scout car’s the most maneuverable in the convoy and if they plan to make an escape that’s the car they need. “Find him and have him bring the car. If what I’m going to try works, we’ll have an opening to escape. Hurry, we need to get the Fuhrer to safety.”

Amos snaps a quick salute then looks out over the chaos obviously mapping out his return route. Abbi and Markus raise their guns to cover him but Ed puts up his hand as he holsters his own weapons. If this works, he won’t even need much cover. Ed turns to Falman and gives him a nod. “Are you ready?” Falman nods back at him and braces himself against the truck. “Okay, I need you to move to the front of the truck where you can be seen and when I say now snap your fingers toward the rear end of the convoy.” It’s dangerous, more so than anything else they’ve done but if it works there will be no question the Flame Alchemist is still among them.

Falman’s face turns deadly serious and he pulls at the base of his right glove with his teeth the way Ed’s seen Roy do a hundred times before. Falman won’t be doing the alchemy, but he will be putting on the show as well as providing the spark for Ed. Falman moves carefully along the truck, inches from the hood and exposing himself and once he’s in position Ed claps his hands together. The setting sun outlines him and Ed’s so strongly reminded of Roy it makes him grin. His bastard will enjoy hearing this story. Amos said they’re using the outlying trucks for cover and he knows the empty one he saw earlier is directly on the other side of this one about forty yards away. That’s where much of the recent fire’s come from and that’s the truck he’s going to blow up.

Ed feels the crackle of alchemy run through him like finely honed blue electricity mixed with threads of red from years and years ago. He always feels the hint of Roy’s hand on his alchemy ever since he resparked it, but he feels it even more now when he focuses on Roy’s personal array. He sees the interlocking triangles, the double circle, and the fire salamander in his mind and then leans around the back of the truck to focus on his target. He reaches out, manipulating the air around it and screams with his full voice. “Now!”

He doesn’t hear the snap of Falman’s fingers but he does catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eyes. He’s standing tall and proud with his arm outstretched and the sun’s red hue outlines him like a halo. Ed channels the spark produced by the gloves and ignites the air. The truck explodes in a massive fireball, much more uncontrolled than Roy’s usual flame but very effective. Heat slaps him in the face and he’d forgotten how it always accompanies an explosion. He should’ve shielded them from it and used it against their attackers. He hears screams from the other side and he presses his advantage as he focuses on a small copse of trees he sees some of the enemy running for.

“Again!” He screams and this time he does see Falman more clearly standing, tall and true with his right hand extended and an intense look of focus on his face as if he were the one to cause the trees to burst into flame. The shadows hide the details of his face and from one moment to the next even Ed can’t make out his features. There’s no question. If anyone sees him now, they’d have no doubt they’d witnessed the Flame in action. He thinks he hears some scattered cheering from the vicinity and Ed smiles. Roy’s always managed to inspire a strong level of loyalty in his soldiers.

Abbi rushes forward when Falman wavers and helps lower him back down behind the truck. Ed sees Amos is gone and the firefight, at least in their immediate vicinity has quieted down. He has no idea how many he took out with his blasts, but at least he’s given them a little breathing room. He’ll need to make sure the fires don’t get out of control and spread into the surrounding woods and do their enemies’ work for them. They’re already giving the area more light than he’s comfortable with now that the sun’s dipped below the horizon. He takes a breath as the earth shakes again and that time he’s certain he hears Armstrong bellowing over the din. They seem to be turning the tide, but they still need to get Falman to safety. 

“Edward, is…Mustang alright?” Ed turns when he sees Cintai and Hawkeye rushing up, guns drawn, and obviously using the explosions as cover in the same way Amos did to escape this area. “I heard he’d been hit.” The concern in Hawkeye’s voice is evident as her eyes search the scene looking for Falman.

“I’m alright, Lieutenant Colonel, at least I think I will be.” Falman’s sitting on the ground again, leaned back against the truck, panting for breath, his acting job having taken a lot out of him. There’s clear worry on Abbi’s face and Ed tries not to dwell on it. They can’t do anything else until they get him out of here.

“You always were a brave fool, sir,” Hawkeye tells him, her words disguised for any that might overhear, but their meaning more than clear. Falman gives a weak smile and Ed can tell his focus is waning. Abbi did a good job with her triage but there’s still a crimson stain seeping through the bandage that looks more black than red. Hawkeye doesn’t miss it either as she turns to Ed. “You need to get him out of here. Armstrong nearly has everything under control from the other side of camp but—”

“Cy’s bringing a car around. Hagan’s family apparently has an estate a few miles south and why didn’t we realize this before?” Ed’s on edge seeing the light slowly fading from Falman’s eyes but he still manages to answer him.

“Didn’t trust him. Wanted to…come on own terms.” Ed knows Falman’s right and he turns to tell him to relax but Abbi’s already talking to him softly and patting his right arm. He looks like he’s barely on the edge of consciousness. Ed shares a worried glance with Markus whose jaw is clenched tight. He hears Cintai and Hawkeye behind him discussing tactics on how they should handle what they saw on their way here.

Ed looks around for the scout car. The sun’s rapidly setting and they need to get Falman somewhere they can properly treat him. He knows Abbi’s medical training isn’t that extensive, but hopefully they can help him be it traditionally or with some type of alchemy. He won’t let him die. Not on his watch. Ed glances over to see Joga isn’t with Cintai and he frowns when he remembers the cry of pain he heard when he first tackled Falman. “Cintai, where’s Joga?”

“He was shot in the leg, sir. He’ll be alright, but he’s taking cover as he couldn’t move quickly.” Ed nods and hopes all their wounds are so easily mended, especially Falman’s. He knows Roy would never forgive himself if they’re not.

They all jump when a car suddenly pulls up so fast it nearly slams into the truck that’s been protecting them. Ed recognizes it immediately as the scout car with its side mirrors and other lines angled more sharply than a normal car and calls out so no one opens fire. “It’s Cy. Amos must’ve found him.”

The rear car door opens from the inside, facing away from the previous attacks that’ve tapered off. Gunfire still echoes from the other end of the encampment, but it seems his explosions have deterred many that were attacking on this side. Still, there’s no point in getting careless. Markus and Abbi start moving Falman who now seems barely conscious and Ed turns to Hawkeye. He should help finish this battle. There’s no doubt his alchemy could still help save lives. He glances at the woods and sees the fire hasn’t spread. That copse of trees is more isolated than he thought and it doesn’t look like the fire will go anywhere.

“Get in the car, Edward.”

Ed starts at Hawkeye’s words and shakes his head. “No, no, I’m needed here. We don’t know how many more—“

“You should go, sir.” Ed starts in surprise when even Cintai’s takes Hawkeye’s side and he doesn’t agree. His place is here with his men.

“You should be with your unit, Colonel.” Ed’s eyes widen as he realizes Hawkeye has a point. The scout car’s filled with his soldiers, all of which have taken to carrying on the ruse and protecting Falman without batting an eye. He knows he’ll have some explaining to do later, but all have followed orders admirably even under these conditions. “You know if that were Mustang there would be no tearing you from his side. Go, Edward. Armstrong and I can handle the rest of this.”

Ed looks back to Hawkeye and Cintai and he knows they’re right. He takes a step toward the car then barks out an order quickly. “When you have the situation under control send the best, most trustworthy medic we have to the estate. It’s two miles to the south. We’ll be waiting for you there to regroup.” Hawkeye nods and Cintai gives him a sharp salute. He’s about to slide into the car when he remembers something as important as any order he’s ever given.

“Hawkeye.” She turns to look back at him and he locks his gaze with hers. “Remember the Fuhrer’s order before we left. Follow it at all costs.”

Hawkeye holds his gaze for a long moment then gives him a short nod. “The same goes for you, sir.”

And with that she and Cintai turn away and he slides into the front seat with Amos and Cy. It’s a tight fit since it was designed for no more than two, but it’s more than fine for now. Cy takes off as soon as he closes the door and they duck down when a few random shots are fired in their direction. They make the turn to the southern road and the car’s silent but for Falman’s ragged breathing in the backseat.

“Ummm, sirs?” Cy clears his throat and keeps his eyes locked on the road as he drives much faster than Ed’s comfortable with on the small dark road. The car’s headlights cut through the gloom, but not nearly enough for Ed’s liking. “You do all realize that’s not the Fuhrer in the backseat, right?”

“Shut up and drive, Cy.” Markus’ voice is harsh and clipped from the back seat and Ed just hopes that’s not an indication of Falman’s condition. Silence falls over the car and Ed begins to think about everything Amos relayed to him earlier. 

His mind was so shot with adrenaline he didn’t think beyond the fact they suddenly had an escape route, but _why_ do they have an escape route? Why would Hagan have been sending a man at all? Did he know about the attack? Could he have been part of it? The estate’s relatively near the border, could he be in league with the rebels Kain recently sent them more information about? Was this all a fucking setup?

Ed whips his head to the side to look at Amos next to him and sees his hands are white knuckled on the dashboard. Apparently he’s not the only one uneasy about Cy’s driving. The unfamiliar terrain has him the most worried. Who knows what else is in store for them? Add to that the battle adrenaline and everything else that’s gone wrong in the span of less than an hour and he’s uneasy about everything. The darkness engulfing them isn’t helping either. They’re headed off into unfamiliar territory in the dark. The car rocks hard from hitting a pothole and Ed grimaces when he hears a soft moan of pain from the backseat. “Amos, you said you talked to Hagan’s messenger. What exactly did he say? Why was he here?”

Amos blinks and with obvious effort turns his eyes from the road to look at Ed. He can barely make him out in the reflected light from the headlights but there’s no missing the unease in his eyes. “He said Hagan heard rumors yesterday morning about an ambush and that he’d expected us to be staying at his family’s estate. The runner had gone there first then tracked us down when we weren’t there.”

Ed frowns at his words because that doesn’t seem right. Why didn’t he send word from Roy? He and Havoc should’ve arrived several days, if not nearly a week ago. If Roy had known about an attack he would’ve sent more than just a runner with the news. It doesn’t make any sense. “Amos, did he say anything about the Fuhrer?”

“Yeah, actually.” Amos glances over his shoulder toward the backseat then looks at Ed again. “The man said Hagan was to be on his way tomorrow to meet with us and…to personally bring the Fuhrer in to Western Command.”

Ed’s eyes widen when all the pieces finally fit together. He feels the blood drain from his face and his heart skips a beat. Coded messages to maintain image is one thing, but coming out to meet them personally? There’s only one reason a general like Hagan in charge of the western battlefront would do something like that.

Roy and Havoc never made it.

Ed swallows around the lump in his throat and sucks in a breath. He doesn’t have time to run around halfcocked no matter how much he might want to. He needs to make sure Falman survives and then regroup with the rest of the convoy. He’ll uphold his command, but then whoever hurt Roy and Jean better be ready because he’ll be coming for them. Roy promised him he’d survive. He has to believe in that. He _will_ believe in that!

Wherever his bastard is, he _will_ find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrit are always loved and appreciated. :-)

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> As this was written for fmabigbang, we had the pleasure of working with the wonderful Rabu who drew the above picture illustrating a scene in this chapter.
> 
> To see the fullsize image and to leave Rabu comments please go [here](http://raburabu-sama.livejournal.com/3638.html).  
> Thank you!


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